


Too small, Too young

by nighttmr



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bruce Is Trying His Best, Bullied Damian Wayne, But He Gets Better, Canon-Typical Violence, Damian Wayne Feels, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Damian Wayne-centric, Damian acting a bit out of character, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson is Damian Wayne’s Parent, Dick Grayson is a Good Brother, Gen, He makes mistakes though, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Jason Todd is a good brother, Just straight up angst here, Past self-harm references, Protective Dick Grayson, Protective Jason Todd, Protective Stephanie Brown, Protective Tim Drake, Racist Language, Self-Esteem Issues, Stephanie Brown is a good sister, Tim Drake Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:46:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25806832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nighttmr/pseuds/nighttmr
Summary: Grayson said Father would love him. Grayson said that Batman protected everyone in Gotham.But when Damian entered the Manor and saw that no one was concerned with his disheveled(torn-clothing-bruised-lips)appearance or the fact that he was gone missing for 28 hours(hurt-tortured-chaineddown), he forced histears-sobs-criesback and calmly walked to his room.Grayson was wrong..After being benched from Robin for being reckless again, Damian goes out anyway to prove he isn't a liability.Things go wrong. And no one noticed.Only when Damian starts acting out of character did the Bats realize just how much they fucked up with their youngest.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne
Comments: 374
Kudos: 1531
Collections: The Dad Dick Grayson We Deserve





	1. The difference between you and me

Damian knew that he wasn’t like Father's other children. And it wasn’t because he was the blood son. It was because he wasn’t chosen like they were.

_Dick Grayson. Jason Todd. Tim Drake._

He knew he didn’t mean as much to Father as they did. He knew he wasn't as special as them. He knew he could never measure up to the standards they had set.

_The Charismatic Acrobat. The Expert Marksman. The Tech Genius._

_The Golden Boy. The Bold Robin. The Prodigal Son._

It was a high bar. For all their flaws and imperfections, they were the perfect sons and soldiers. Just like Father wanted.

He knew that no matter how much he wished it was different ~~that he was different~~ , he was not as important as them.

Because Damian Al Ghul is the "Ex"-Assassin, the "hero" that even other heroes fear. The one no one wants to work with. The one other people have to watch out for. The one most likely to go rogue and evil.

_He uses excessive force on criminals. He doesn’t listen to orders and goes off on his own. He treats people like they were beneath him. He has a horrible attitude and makes enemies with every word he spats out. ~~He is a bad child.~~ _

But even with all of his irredeemable traits, he thought that he at least counted as one of the people his father would strive to save because Batman saves the innocents and children after all.

He should've known he never counted as either.

.

.

.

A few nights before, he went patrolling on his own. He was sick of Father treating him as an invalid. Sick of having to watch everyone go out and patrol when he was stuck in bed because of an encounter with Scarecrow. The toxin has been flushed from his system. He is completely fine. Father didn't know what he was talking about.

So he snuck out. Honestly, Father should know better than to think he can lock him down.

He stopped three muggings and two car thefts.

See. He was fine.

It wasn't until something hit him hard in the back of the head and he collapsed on the floor, darkness blurring his vision, that maybe not everything was fine.

When he came to, he knew he was going to get a lecture. He was drugged. He was disorientated. He was chained.

Electricity scorched his veins. Heavy boots kicked him in the ribs. On and on, the _hurt-pain-torture_ continued. It wasn't long before his pride gave way. He was crying at this point, beyond caring who sees him in this humiliated state if this could just end. He screamed and thrashed. He begged and pleaded.

But it didn't stop.

.

Robin's uniform was torn and ripped up. Only his green domino mask was left intact as some sort of mocking farce. The criminals involved didn’t really care about uncovering his identity, just the fact he was Robin.

He had none of his arrogance or pride. His too small, too young frame was shaking on the cold hard floor of the small dark room, his wrists and ankles chained down to keep him there. There were visible tear tracks on his face and his hair was matted with sweat.

He was hit with another dash of electricity (electric sparks danced around his body), letting out another blood-curling scream as he tried to curl up even further into a little ball, trying to get away from the pain that attacked him everywhere.

The attack stopped and soft, hoarse whimpers were heard.

A voice (cruel and sadistic) said. "Honestly, Robin. How pathetic can you fall? You are no longer a League assassin because your mother wanted nothing more to do with you. You are very clearly not a Bat because let's face it. What good can you do? You're a killer. They don't care for you. They don't love you."

"They do." He whispered.

Before another bolt of electricity shocked him.

"Do they, really? You tried to kill them. You hurt them over and over again. How could they love you?"

"They do." He shakily insisted, wanting to believe that.

Another shock.

"They do."

Another shock.

And the pattern repeated until finally at last.

"...They don't."

The shocks stopped. "Correct answer."

And Robin was left reeling on the floor, limbs spread out, breathing heavily and crying. No longer in physical pain. But mentally? He was attacked over and over again. Words twisting in his mind. Memories distorted.

The Bats never really did love him, did they?

"Don't worry, baby." The voice purred mockingly. "It wasn't so hard to figure out. It's been 18 hours and no one showed up. Face it. You don't matter to them. You don't matter at all."

And in a hoarse voice, Robin (looking far too small, far too young) confessed. "I just wanted them to be proud of me and love me....I just wanted to be one of them."

"You never will be."

And as Robin broke down sobbing again, the voice smirked. He was able to do what no one did before. What the Joker wasn't able to accomplish.

He was able to completely break Robin in body and spirit.

_Robin will never fly again._

.

Even though the electric shocks ceased (and he never heard from the voice again), the pain didn’t stop.

It seems it was the worst of criminal scum who entered the cell _(from what Damian could tell through hazy blurred vision)_ and beat him to their heart’s content. They didn’t care about hurting a defenseless kid, a broken little boy. They just wanted to take out their anger at Batman on his too small, too young sidekick.

He couldn’t remember much _(he didn’t want to remember anything)_ , dissociating as much as he could to get away from the _pain-hurt-torture_.

~~He just wanted things to end.~~

Like all the times before (and what good that did), he pressed his distress signal over and over again. And no one answered.

Until he gave up waiting for a family that will never come. Until the _pain-hurt-torture_ grew too much for the teenager to bear. Until his mind snapped and he fell back on his old training.

He killed all those who caused him pain.

_(He broke Father’s only rule)_

He was alone. His chains were broken but he could still feel the _hurt-torture-pain_. He wrapped himself in his tattered cape, curling up in a little ball. And allowed himself to cry for a while.

.

Damian remembered when he stopped crying and forced himself to stand up. But what happened next was a fuzzy blur.

With eyes glazed over and a numb mind, he stepped over the bloodied corpses sewn all over the place and made his way back to one of his safe houses. He quietly slipped in and headed straight to the bathroom. When he looked at the mirror, the dense hazy fog clouding his head went away and he could see crystal clear.

He looked awful. Horrible.

There was a long bloody cut down the side of his face and a dark purple bruise decorating the other side. His torn and ripped clothing hung limply on him. And a range of skin discolorations and cuts littered his body. He definitely felt a bone(s?) shifting somewhere. His skin was a tone lighter and had a sickly tint. He could feel quite a bit of swelling on the back of his head.

He tore his eyes away from the mirror and undressed, throwing his clothes in a pile in the corner (making a mental note to throw ~~burn~~ them away elsewhere when he can).

He turned on the shower to the highest setting, the cold water immediately hitting his bare scarred skin.

He carefully dressed his wounds in his bathroom before changing into a spare Robin uniform (slight torns but nothing close to the shredded clothing he previously wore). What wasn't hidden he carefully covered with makeup.

He looked at himself again in the mirror.

He looked normal.

He looked like his arrogant, haughty self who can take on everything the world throws at him.

But he didn’t feel like that at all.

_~~He couldn’t forget how his family never answered his cries for help.~~ _

.

He should’ve expected the _oh so warm_ welcome he received when he came home.

Father wasted no time yelling at him for going on patrol. The Robin uniform was a dead giveaway to what he has been doing.

But still.

He was surprised to see that no one was concerned with his disheveled _(torn-clothing-bruised-lips)_ appearance or the fact that he was gone ~~missing~~ for 28 hours _(hurt-tortured-chaineddown)_.

He was grounded again and for far longer. He could hear Drake snickering. He listened to his father berate and lecture. And when Batman was finally done and left ~~to get away from his disobedient unwanted son~~ , Damien —forced his _tears-sobs-cries_ back— took off his Robin uniform and left. He calmly walked to his room (not betraying a single emotion he felt). 

And it wasn't until he was gone, did Tim notice something was wrong with this picture. Damian's disobedience wasn't anything new but his silence was.

Maybe someone took the brat down a peg or two.

 _Whatever._ He shrugged and turned his attention back to the Batcomputer. He had cases to do.

The demon brat probably deserved it.

.

The next day, Damian took a longer than usual time getting ready. Understandable considering that last night, he was held in the basement of an abandoned warehouse _tortured-hurt-abused_ over and over again.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He didn’t want to remember what happened. Instead, he thought about Jon and Colin and his animals.

Soon he was presentable ~~normal~~ again. He wore a black turtleneck and blue jeans. He was what the family and the world expects Damian Wayne to look like.

But he didn't feel like Damian Wayne.

Because Damian Wayne was a pretentious, arrogant jerk who looked down on everyone. He was an ex-assassin who gave up his Mother and Grandfather's way to join his Father's righteous crusade and was given the mantle that rightfully belonged to him. He believed his Father loved him.

_But now?_

They were right. He's not a hero. He never stopped being an assassin. He stole the Robin mantle. And his Father never loved him.

_How could he?_

He, Drake, and Father were sitting at the dining table and Damian could only stare at his food that he hasn’t touched at all. He directed his attention to Drake and Father as they talked about the latest WE news.

He was aware that he put makeup on his face injuries but he wasn't so proficient that they couldn't tell when he turned his head a certain way in the light. And they were supposed to the best detectives in the world.

_Did they just not care? Or do they think he deserved whatever happened?_

He didn’t speak up. Just forced his _tears-hurt-anguish_ back and stayed quiet ~~(would they even care to listen?)~~. He picked up his fork and numbingly ate his food.

.

.

.

Damian knows he is not good.

He knows that no one really likes him.

But he always thought if he still has a place in this family, it was okay. He was Robin. He was _(maybe not so sure now)_ Grayson's favorite. He was Father's only biological son.

But maybe he was wrong all along. He wondered when exactly he did wrong to suddenly change his family's opinion of him. Or was this how they felt about him all along and they just got tired of pretending they cared? Maybe he never had a place here in the first place and they were just too nice to throw him in an orphanage the first chance they get. ~~It would reflect badly on the benevolent Waynes after all.~~

After 4 years of living here, he thinks he can finally see what everyone else must've been saying all along.

He wasn't worth saving.

So maybe he should stop acting like he was.


	2. What do i mean to you?

Nothing got better.

Well, Damian thinks it did. After all, he no longer picked any fights. He no longer fought with Father or provoked Drake. He was silent both at home and at school. He caused nobody any trouble. He was Father’s perfect son. Out of sight, out of mind.

But to everyone else in the Batfamily, they were starting to get the inkling that something was off even if they didn’t know exactly what was wrong.

.

It's been a week since Damian was _hurt-beatendown-assaulted_ in the warehouse and Robin was benched again.

One week since his entire world view has changed and he realized that the Waynes must despise him as much as the Al Ghuls did. And he couldn’t blame them. They had many valid reasons to subject him to their hatred and resentment.

He couldn’t make his mother proud. And he is already failing in the eyes of his father.

He should just leave. Take his few meager belongings and get the hell out of this house. Do everyone in the Wayne family a favor and just get out of their lives. Because Damian Al Ghul was an interloper in an already close knit family.

But.

It was the closest thing he got to feeling like he actually belonged somewhere.

_He'll take it._

_He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to be alone again._

.

Who was Damian Wayne really? Without Robin and the League, without Talia and Bruce —who was he? Where did he belong? When you tore down everything that people expected of him, what are you left with?

~~Nothing.~~

His hands shook slightly as he sat on the window ledge. Gotham's cold air was freezing and unforgiving but he reveled in it. Anything to feel numb. Anything to take his mind off of the fucked up things in his life.

Why couldn't he ever get a break?

"Little D?"

He heard the door open but he made no movement to acknowledge Grayson. He must have arrived from Bludhaven already.

He heard the older man sit next to him. "Nice view, huh?"

He said nothing.

"Are you upset that B benched you? You'll be able to go out and wreak havoc in a few days, baby bat." Grayson, the ever bubbly fool, ruffled his hair.

But Damian didn't react, didn't snarl at how he was being treated like a child or ranted how he should be out there on patrol. He didn't do anything that Dick expected.

"I am not angry at Father." Damian stated.

It was true. After all, it wasn’t Batman’s fault that he had such a troublesome child for a son. He didn’t ask for Damian to be born.

"Oh, okay." He heard Grayson say. "Up for food? Alf says dinner's gonna be ready soon."

Damian nodded although he felt like eating nothing.

_Sometimes, even when he had nothing in his stomach, he still felt the bile rising in his throat, hating the way his body reacts. He was supposed to be safe here. No one would touch him like that here. He was supposed to be okay._

_~~He wasn’t.~~ _

.

Dinner was quiet.

Okay, Grayson and Father were talking to each other. Todd was actually here for once and was ribbing Drake on or something. Frankly, Damian didn't care to listen to the noises around him.

(He didn't notice how every single one of them shot him _confused-questioning-worried_ looks)

He was too busy playing around with his food (which he absentmindedly took note of was one of his favorite dishes). He had no desire to eat it but after Grayson shot him another concerned glance, he forced himself to pick up his fork and shovel food in his mouth. He forced himself to swallow and repeat the motion. It was mechanical and numbing how he moved.

He wondered if any of the others noticed.

Maybe Grayson and Pennyworth. They are the only ones who ever seem to care about him.

When he ate half of the plate, he felt nicely accomplished. It was more than he eats nowadays.

.

“Let’s go out and have some fun.”

Damian didn’t have a choice but he didn’t complain as he let Grayson lead him to wherever today.

Grayson was really intending to make up for missing their last brotherly bonding day because of a case. He gets why Grayson couldn’t make it. Stopping criminals was their job and putting them in jail was more important.

_~~Was that why Grayson didn’t answer his cries for help? Was he helping someone more important? Someone actually worth saving?~~ _

He doesn’t blame Grayson. He was used to being a second priority, even a third or fourth. Still, he couldn’t quite stop the warmth he felt at how Grayson thought of him and wanted to make it up as if he did Damian a disservice when he was just doing his job.

.

Grayson took him to a fair on the outskirts of town. Damian didn’t even know this was a thing. He listened to his older brother’s babbling as they walked around the colorful sights and general happy atmosphere.

“Yeah. Bruce used to take me all the time when I was younger.”

Oh.

No wonder he didn’t know this was a thing.

Father never does things with him. Like he said, he was used to not being anyone’s first priority. Even Mother was the same way. Delegating her attention to more important matters than her son, only really paying attention to him when he messed up in his training.

“Dami?”

Grayson stopped walking and was now looking back at him with worried blue eyes. _(Blue like Father’s eyes instead of the disgusting green Damian was cursed to have —linking him to his Al Ghul heritage. No wonder Father can’t stand to look at him. He’s a constant reminder of his worst mistake)_

The cold, harsh winds sniped and bit him. He burrowed himself further in his warm jacket _(Grayson bought it for him on a whim during his tenure of wearing the cowl. No special occasion except that he just saw it in store and wanted to gift his favorite baby with it. Grayson can be ridiculous sometimes)_.

Grayson was smiling gently at him. “Is everything okay? You’re looking a little pale there, buddy. We can always come back next time if you’re not feeling well.”

He shook his head. “I’m fine Grayson.”

Grayson still stared at him with worry in his eyes but relented. “Okay. Tell me if you don’t feel well, alright? We can always do movie night in the home theater instead.”

Just like old times.

But Damian didn’t feel up for that anymore. The Manor didn’t feel like home anymore. It felt suffocating and lonely.

~~Empty.~~

.

As the day went on and the sun started to fall, the numbness Damian felt dulled and for the first time since the disastrous patrol that went wrong, he felt a lightness in his heart. He felt okay.

He knew it was because of the time he spent with Grayson today. They went on many rides and Grayson brought him an assortment of junk food a kid his age should like. It was way too sugary for his tastes but it wasn’t as bad as he thought. But more than anything they did, it was because of Grayson’s warm presence, joyous laughter, and kind smiles. It lightened the darkness he was entrenched in.

Unlike a lot of people in his life, Grayson never once judged him. Never once looked at him like he was an unwanted interloper in his family. When Grayson looks at him, it was with _fondness-love-pride_ , the sort of attention that Damian always craved from Talia and Bruce and never received —this pure lovingly adoration that he actually meant _something_ to someone.

“Grayson.”

“Yes, Little D?” Grayson smiled gently as he looked down fondly.

Grayson’s kids would be lucky to have him as a father. But. _When Grayson has his own kids, where does that leave Damian?_

He shouldn’t think like that. Grayson is entitled to his own life. And his own biological kids deserve more of their father’s attention than a no good assassin.

“Little D?” He felt his brother nudge him. “Is everything okay, baby bat?”

“Am I a hero?” He was surprised at himself for the question. He didn’t mean to blurt that out, but he was interested in hearing the answer.

“One of the best. You are a good hero and I’m proud of how far you’ve come.”

His breath caught in his throat, his voice small and almost silent. “...Really?”

“Really.” Grayson said with an easy smile. “Wanna know a secret? Robin’s my favorite hero.”

Damian felt a small warmth spread in his chest even though he should know better. Grayson was the picture perfect hero (in and out of the suit). He always had a way of brightening up the room with his sunny and cheerful presence alone and making people feel special and wanted. No matter what, he always made people feel that everything could actually be alright.

He can make even the most beautiful lies seem like the truth.

~~Damian could almost believe it when Grayson said he was good and a hero.~~

.

Dick was growing increasingly worried about Damian. Dami has been acting off since he came back to Gotham for a visit. His baby was so quiet, it was concerning. Dami didn’t even snap at him when he went in for his usual hug. Didn’t insult him as he often does in their usual banter. He was quiet and still.

_Alarm bells rang in his head._

After the trip to the fair, he tried getting Damian involved in a bunch of activities. Watching Disney movies in the home theater, getting ice cream, playing with Titus out in the park. All things that Damian —even if he grumbled and complained— loved doing. Dami couldn’t quite hide the small smile from Dick or his green eyes lighting up in joy. He can see through his baby’s grumpy exterior.

_But now?_

Damian no longer smiled at all when they were out doing all those things. No longer let out that adorable huff when he was trying hard not to laugh at something he found funny.

Seeing him so quiet was like a rare show of vulnerability. Damian truly looked like his young age. And with how small he is, Dick’s heart bled for him. He couldn’t help but want to gather him up in his arms and sprint him away to his apartment in Bludhaven. It made Dick want to shelter him from every bad thing in the world just so his baby can never experience those things.

It was to his ire that no one else in this damn house noticed. Tim, he can kind of understand. The pair go out of their way to avoid each other to not cause a fuss and be benched from patrol. As much as he wanted them to get along as brothers, he was happy that they were no longer antagonizing each other. Alfred may get an inkling that something is wrong with Dami. But his usual method is just giving the young master some space and go from there.

His own father, on the other fucking hand, is as emotionally dense as a brick when it comes to these things. Damn it Bruce. Can’t you see that this is your son suffering here?

.

“Hey, B.” Dick strolled up to B who was typing away on the BatComputer. “Have you noticed anything going on with Damian?”

Bruce understood Dick’s concern. Damian was way too quiet lately. But he was behaving himself. He received a call from Damian’s homeroom teacher saying how the boy has been behaving so well for the past week. No fights or trouble of any kind with his classmates. He was quiet and diligent with his school work.

His recent grounding must’ve taught him that his actions have consequences. Bruce is keeping an eye on the situation but he’s fine with it.

Damian wasn’t causing any trouble. It was nothing to concern himself with.

“Damian’s fine.”

.

To be honest, Dick should’ve expected Bruce’s answer.

“Damian's fine.”

No. He’s fucking not.

But Bruce didn’t even have the decency to turn around and say this. He just showed Dick his back.

Dick clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. He abruptly turned around and left. If he stayed any longer, he would’ve punched Bruce right in the jaw.

He gets it, okay.

Bruce is swamped with JL work and WE. But damn it. This is your son we’re talking about here. Not another fucking solider.

He needs his father. Not Batman.

That was one thing that Bruce is weakest at. Separating the father from the mission. Because they all know that if given the choice between the world and his family, Bruce would pick the world. Not because he doesn’t care about his family at all. It’s because he cares about the world just a tad bit more. Every single person of the Batfam understands this. They’ve been put in the same position.

It was a damned life they live as vigilantes.

And he understands the heavy burden that Batman wears everyday when he took on the mantle when Bruce was lost in time. They were some big shoes to fill in.

But he wasn’t Bruce. And he wasn’t about to let _his_ Robin suffer anymore.

.

Jason only came to the warehouse to follow up on a lead. He was not expecting to see a carnage mess and he was glad for the filters in his helmet (no doubt that the smell would be just awful). Blood, guts, and bodies strewn all over the place. It was like someone ran a lawnmower over a field of bodies. 

Ok. That was probably too graphic. But it describes the scene perfectly.

It was a fucking bloody mess.

Who the hell did this?

He made his way through flesh and guts. He could recognize some of the men as Roman Sionis’. But what was Black Mask doing here? This isn’t his territory or his usual hang outs. Was this a territory issue? Hood didn’t hear of any crime wars happening in Gotham.

And oh shit.

He picked up a sleek piece of metal among the destruction, the glinting silver covered in a dark metallic red.

He recognized this.

It’s the demon brat’s sword.

_Robin killed them?_

He let out a low whistle. Who knew the demon brat could do so much damage? Even for a trained assassin, this was impressive.

Jason thought back to how unnaturally quiet Damian was being back at dinner a few days ago but he put it down as it’s final exam season and who wouldn’t be dead going through that?

It was likely the Big Bats had no idea what his youngest did since he didn’t blow his top. And Jason isn’t going to the one to tell him. He isn’t a fucking snitch. And some criminals deserve to die for their crimes. And these dead bodies were of the nasty sort. All in all, he wasn’t going to lose sleep over their deaths.

Jason still looked around. Might as well see if there was anything useful in this place while he’s still here.

Jackpot.

In the next room that wasn’t bloodied up, there were computers he can totally hack into. He wasn’t a genius like Red Robin and Oracle but he knows enough to get by and not leave a mark. After all, you couldn’t rise up as a crime lord in Gotham without a few skills.

While searching the files (he wasn’t too sure what he was hoping to find), he found a video.

This seems interesting.

He clicked play.

.

.

.

_"They do."_

_Another shock._

_"...They don't."_

_The shocks stopped. "Correct answer."_

What the actual fuck. Jason could feel his blood boil as the Lazarus Pit roared for blood. How could someone do that to a kid? A fucking hero?

He was sick to his stomach. He did a lot of horrible things in his life. But he would never put a kid through something like that. Least of all, the demon brat.

Damian Wayne had a shitty attitude and a shittier way of making friends through insults. But he had a big heart that showed with how loyal he was to his friends and how he cared for his animals. Robin didn’t deserve any of this. Damian didn’t deserve this.

Jason was never big on family but he tried. He got along with Tim and he tried to kill the guy. He should've reached out to Damian more. They both knew what it was like to be under the League’s fucked up training and messed up by Talia.

“Hey, Dickhead. I need you to meet with me ASAP. You’re gonna want to see this in person. It’s about Baby Bat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am pleasantly surprised at how many people are enjoying this fic. It was simply an indulgence for me to write heavy angst and Dick and Damian brotherly bonding.


	3. These blood-stained hands of mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 8/29/20

Growing up, Damian was proud of his roots and heritage. He was the son of Batman and the Demon Head’s daughter. He was not ashamed of the blood running in his veins.

_“I heard his mom’s a terrorist.”_

_“No way! What’s he doing in our school then?” _

_“I hope they expel him. People like him are a bunch of bad apples.”_

But most people don’t see that.

They see his different skin color.

They see his different background.

All they see is someone different from them. And that was enough to earn their scorn and disdain.

Not that their petty insults and weak sneers ever affect him. He kept his head held high and his posture straight. His schoolmates have no shred of intelligence. He was worth more than the blatant contempt and ridicule they threw at him.

And even though he can clearly show his superiority over these plebeians (it would be child’s play for someone of his caliber), he doesn’t.

He never once retaliated or fought back.

It would do nothing. Children will be children. And Father will not be pleased if he used his training on such cruel yet defenseless people.

He knew how to fight. They didn’t. If he fought back, he was the one in the wrong. They would be the victims. Not him.

~~He was never the victim. Always the aggressor. Always the one starting the fight.~~

Besides, he should know better. He shouldn’t let their words get to him. He was above their silly name-calling and insults _no matter how much his heart aches_.

But now?

He doesn’t bother because it’s true.

He is no hero.

He will always be the villain in the story.

~~Maybe he should finally do the right thing and kill the monster.~~

_“That’s Demon Wayne.”_

_“Should you even call him that? I heard the Waynes were ruthless when it comes to bullying.”_

_“Please. He isn’t a Wayne. Even his own brothers call him demon.”_

_“Yeah. Even the Waynes despise him.”_

_“He’s a bastard child. His mom didn’t even want him.”_

_“I still can’t believe Bruce Wayne took him in.”_

_“It’s not that unbelievable. Brucie always took pity on those gutter trash. Remember the Circus gypsy and Crime Alley bitch? The only one worth his salt is the Drake heir.”_

Damian tuned out their words as he entered his next class and sat in his desk before plugging his earphones in.

_~~Even if it was true, he didn’t want to hear it.~~ _

.

It was hard to smile.

But it’s not like he actually does smile so would anyone notice?

_Damian Wayne is heartless. He is cruel and vicious. He can’t feel emotions. He doesn’t know what happiness is._

He couldn’t enjoy art anymore. He couldn’t paint or draw. Every time he tries, nothing comes to mind and he ends up tearing the paper in his hurt.

Not even playing with his animals brought him any joy.

Can Titus, Alfred the cat, Batcow see who he really was? Can they see the blood on his hands and the darkness that surrounds him? Can they tell that he is truly a vile demon walking among them here? That he is a sinner among saints.

Titus whined. He stood on his hind legs, brushing his head against the lump on his master’s bed and whined again. But Damian didn’t stir, didn’t acknowledge his loyal dog. He just kept the blanket over his head so no one could see the tears silently falling down his cheeks.

How could they shower him with love and affection?

He doesn’t deserve it. He wasn’t worth it.

_He killed. He hurt. He destroyed. He ruins anything he touches._

What good is he? How could anyone love him?

With these blood-stained hands of his.

_Isolated in his room, the too small, too young boy curled up underneath the covers, a pillow over his head as he tried to block out the harsh and unkind reality he lived in._

.

Robin was magic. Robin was hope. Robin was the light to Batman’s darkness.

~~Robin was not Damian.~~

After two weeks being benched, Damian was finally allowed back out. The uniform felt _itchy-uncomfortable-too tight_. He felt trapped in his own skin. He wanted to claw at his throat just so he could breathe again. _Was the uniform always this stuffy? He felt like he was going to break out in a fever_. But he kept his mouth shut as he put on his domino mask.

~~No one wanted to hear what a spoiled brat would say anyway.~~

He was patrolling with Red Robin tonight.

“Look, demon brat.” Tim said, not even looking at Robin, as he fixed his gear. “Both of us are unhappy with this so just do us a favor and listen to my orders and no one gets benched, okay?”

Damian nodded.

_He was Father’s perfect son. No trouble. No fighting. Out of sight, out of mind._

.

Tim was not looking forward to patrolling with the Demon brat. At least, the kid was actually listening to him for once. He must not want to be grounded again after so long (it was only 2 weeks for fuck’s sake). Seriously. Bruce was too soft with him.

Damian needed to earn his place in the family just like Tim did.

He needed to earn the Robin mantle just like he did. 

And he did nothing to earn it.

Damian fucking tried to kill him over and over again. The brat even cut his grapple line once — _he almost fell to his death_. And he’s rewarded by being a hero?

What the fuck?

Like what the actual fuck?

_Does no one else see anything wrong with this?_

And the thing is, Tim tried to get along with him at first. When he heard of Damian’s existence, he was excited to be a big brother. When they met, he held out a hand in greeting only to get a fucking knife in the stomach.

The brat was a damn brat.

~~He was a spoiled demonic piece of shit.~~

And Tim didn’t try again.

.

The night was calm and slow. Hardly any crimes.

But that didn’t stop Robin from feeling like his nerves were on fire. He constantly checked the darkness, _wary-guarded-anxious_ eyes wandered towards the shadows around him. He was way too worked up. He was — _Scared-Afraid-Someone-Please-Save-Him_.

“Robin, come here.”

He was fine.

.

It was nearing 2am when Robin and Red Robin arrived at the scene of an attempted robbery.

_Some people just don’t learn._

Red threw a smoke bomb and the pair immediately jumped into the fray. Red attacked with his bo staff and Robin unsheathed his sword.

It wasn’t even men from the well-known gangs. Just a bunch of low-lives trying to make a score. No big deal. It was simple.

“What the hell is with the sword? I thought heroes don’t kill.”

So why was Damian shaking? Why was he scared because of a couple of scumbags? Why wouldn’t his body obey him?

Why?

_“You're a killer. They don't care for you. They don't love you."_

_"You tried to kill them. You hurt them over and over again. How could they love you?"_

“Robin!”

The color red sprayed across his vision. He looked up with wide eyes to see Red Robin standing in front of him knocking out the last of the guys before falling to his knees, one hand clutched over his stomach.

Drake took a bullet for him.

Why?

He wasn’t worth saving.

.

It hurt like a fucking bitch.

That was the first thing Tim noticed. Fuck. He will never get used to gunshot wounds.

The second thing was how Robin was shaking.

Throughout the night, he was glad that Damian was following his orders but the demon brat was way too quiet. Just like he was a couple nights before at dinner.

_It was ~~unnerving.~~_

.

Drake was hurt because of him. Drake was bleeding because of him.

Father was not going to be pleased. Scratch that. Father was going to kill him for hurting his prodigy. _His actual son_.

Damian had to leave. He had to get out of here. Before— Before—

The walls were closing in. His uniform was too tight on his body. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t fucking breathe.

_"You tried to kill them. You hurt them over and over again. How could they love you?"_

He had to go.

He ignored Drake’s shouts and ran ~~(running until the monsters couldn’t get him anymore)~~. He couldn’t stay there.

.

Damian was only vaguely aware he was in one of Gotham’s many shady alleys. There was no moon tonight and with the broken streetlights, his too small, too young form was hidden under the cover of darkness.

He was hiding behind a dumpster, pressed up against the corner of the alleyway. He was finally able to breathe again but he couldn’t stop shaking. He couldn’t stop feeling constricted in this stolen hero uniform.

When he looked down and saw Drake’s blood on his hands, it was the last straw. He finally let the tears fall down his face.

In a small alley, the littlest bird curled up in his cape and cried.

_“Demon brat!”_

_“Monster!”_

_“Terrorist!”_

_“No one wants you!”_

_“Go back to where you came from!”_

Damian needs to do better than this.

He needs to be better.

He needs to be —

_**Not him.** _

.

_"Don't worry, baby. It wasn't so hard to figure out. It's been 18 hours and no one showed up. Face it. You don't matter to them. You don't matter at all."_

_And in a hoarse voice, Robin (looking far too small, far too young) confessed. "I just wanted them to be proud of me and love me....I just wanted to be one of them."_

_"You never will be."_

Dick was aghast at the contents of the video. When Jason said it involved Damian, he was not expecting that. It was agonizing to hear his baby’s sobs. He felt ashamed and disgusted with himself that he couldn’t protect Dami from all the pain and hurt he went through.

He should’ve been there for him.

He promised to always be there for him.

_He failed._

“Who?” His voice was ice cold, cutting through the silence. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth.

Who did this? Who dared to hurt his Robin like that?

Dick was beyond angry. And that was a fucking understatement. Hell has nothing on what he will do to the people who hurt his baby.

Jason looked at him. “I found some of Sionis’ men and some unknowns at the warehouse. Black Mask definitely wasn’t behind this….I think this is a new player we’re dealing with.”

.

Jason watched Dick with wary and cautious eyes.

Although he didn’t outright show it with his casual and unguarded posture, he was getting a bit scared of Dick to be honest. He never saw Big Bird like this.

He saw Dick angry before.

When he first came to the Manor and took the Robin mantle, Dick and Bruce would fight all the time. He saw the two of them having a screaming match every other week. Dick glowered and wore a stormy thunderous expression. Bruce was no better. And little Jay hid in his room.

So yeah. He saw Dick angry before but never a raw, unbridled rage like this.

It was terrifying. Alarming.

_A frosty chill ran down his back._

He can see how Nightwing rose up to be feared among the Bludhaven’s criminal gangs —a city said to be worse than crime-ridden, soul depressing Gotham.

.

All Dick could think about was Damian’s heart wrenching cries and begs for help. How did Robin even end up in that situation?

He pressed his distress signal over and over again. Why didn’t anyone answer? _Why didn’t he answer?_

He got no alerts. Their equipment was working fine. Perfect as always. So why didn’t anyone hear his baby just begging for someone to save him?

_What the hell was going on?_

He failed Damian. He failed his Robin.

He will spend eternity and beyond begging for Damian to forgive him.

But more than his ire towards himself was his wrath towards Bruce. Because how the hell does Batman not notice his own son missing for over a day?

After Bruce got back from being lost in the time stream, Dick stepped back. He gave back the Batman mantle and Damian and went back to Bludhaven. Even with his heart aching with the loss of his baby, he thought he made the right decision.

Damian deserves the chance to grow up with his actual father and fight crime alongside him. Bruce would take good care of him. And it’s what Damian always wanted. To be with the father he looks up to so much. 

He loved Damian so much, he let him go.

_Now he was wondering if he made the wrong choice._

.

When Dick arrived at the Manor, he went straight to Damian’s room and found his baby curled up under his covers, asleep with visible tear streaks on his face.

He truly failed his Robin.

He placed a hand on Dami’s shoulder and gently shook him awake. “Dami?”

And wasn't it just worrying how Dami was too off guard? Dami was not a heavy sleeper. He must not be sleeping well. Understandable considering the situation but concerning.

.

Damian opened his eyes, revealing those beautifully haunted green eyes before he blinked a few times to get rid of the blurriness. His eyes widened at seeing Grayson and he quickly wiped the tears away.

_Although they both knew that Grayson already saw them._

“What are you doing here, Grayson?” Damian thought Grayson already left for Bludhaven.

“I wanted to see you again.”

“You saw me a couple of days ago.” Still, it felt nice to be on the receiving end of Grayson’s warm smile.

“Do you want to hang out with me at Bludhaven for a while?”

“What?”

Why would Grayson ask that? He was way too busy with police work and doing his own cases and patrol. He didn’t need Damian there to bother him from what needs to be done.

“I don’t think it’s good for you to be here.”

_What?_

“Damian.” Why did Grayson look like he wanted to cry? “I know about what happened in the warehouse 2 weeks ago.”

Damian froze.

_What?_

Was Grayson going to confirm that he was wrong all along? That the one person he could count on for unconditional love was pretending all along? Was he going to laugh at how naive Damian was for believing he was worth love?

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

_Don’t look at me with those sad puppy eyes._

Damian looked away. Like all the times before, he kept his mouth shut and stayed quiet.

.

Dick’s heart bled for his baby.

Dami really believed those horrible lies. That he was unloved and unwanted. When it couldn’t be further from the truth.

He didn’t give a damn what Bruce thinks. He’s taking Damian away from this house. Because he was obviously the only one who gives a fucking damn about their youngest.

.

Bruce stepped into the hallway. He took in the backpack Damian had on his back and the way Dick took a protective stance in front of him, shielding his youngest and shooting him a heated glare.

It was clear to see that Dick was angry at him. He thought back to the last few days. He wasn’t aware of any wrongdoings he did to his eldest.

“What are you doing with Damian?”

“I’m taking him with me to Bludhaven.”

He blinked. What the hell came over Dick? “What? Why?”

“Because it is clear that you are not being an actual father to him.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes. He did not like that tone. “Are you questioning my parenting?”

“Yes.” Dick stepped closer to him, his eyes darkening. “I am.”

“I’m his father.”

.

Like that actually means a damn thing.

Dick could just feel a burning anger thrumming in his veins. Bruce can’t call himself a father when he didn’t even see Damian is suffering here. He didn’t even know his Robin was missing and hurt. 

“Then start fucking acting like his dad.”

Bruce frowned. “Don’t speak to me like that.”

“I’ll speak to you however I damn well pleased. I’m taking Damian and that’s final.”

Bruce clenched his fists.

Dick didn't relent. “When you were lost to time, I had papers drawn up to give me custody of Damian. Don’t make me play that card.”

“You’ll terminate my rights as his Father. You’ll do that to Damian?”

“Yes. Because it’s clear that you are not the father he deserves. Don’t push me Bruce. I love you but Damian deserves better than this. He deserves better than you.”

.

_Sometimes, Bruce lets his anger get the best of him. Sometimes, he says things he doesn't mean._

Batman studies everyone and everything. It was in his paranoid and need-to-control-everything nature. So he knows exactly where to hit to quickly and efficiently end a fight. He knows exactly what to say to make it hurt. 

_Sometimes, he can’t take back the words he said._

.

“When I came back, you were the one who left Damian behind to go to Bludhaven.”

_How fucking dare he._

Dick couldn’t take it anymore. He punched Bruce in the jaw.

.

The car ride was quiet.

Damian was sitting too quiet, too still in the passenger seat, holding onto his backpack.

Dick was absolutely seething in his seat. How dare Bruce say that! But he had enough control over his anger not to get into an accident.

_“When I came back, you were the one who left Damian behind to go to Bludhaven.”_

Yeah. He left Gotham. And haven’t come by the Manor (and visit Damian) as much as he would like. But he left so Bruce and Damian can have a father-son relationship. How dare Bruce try to turn that back on him. 

How fucking dare he!

“Why would you do that?” Damian’s voice was so quiet, he almost didn’t hear it.

“What?”

“Why would you fight with Father for me?”

He didn’t have to. Now Father was going to be angry at Dick. It was all his fault for ruining Dick and Father’s relationship.

“Hey now. None of that.” Dick ruffled his hair as if he could sense the negative thoughts swirling in his head. “I would always fight for you. No matter if it’s Bruce or anyone else.”

“But why?” He didn’t understand just why Grayson would do that.

“Because you’re worth it.”

~~Was he though?~~

.

Dick brought Damian back to Jason’s safehouse.

_(Even while keeping his anger under control, he was in no state to drive all the way to Bludhaven like this)_

Little Wing left a note saying he was going to be out for a bit. He was currently chasing down information on who hurt Robin.

Dick felt conflicted feelings. On one hand, he wanted to go after those bastards too. But on the other hand, he wanted to stay with Damian and make sure this never happens again.

Dami hasn’t spoken since he asked Dick why he would fight for him. And hearing how he didn’t believe he was worth fighting for and seeing those broken green eyes —

_He failed his Robin._

He dropped to his knees and brought Dami close to his chest, holding him tightly and whispered “I’m sorry” over and over again.

.

The tears in his cursed green eyes fell on their own accord.

Why was Grayson apologizing?

Grayson didn’t owe him an apology so why was he constantly saying he was sorry?

Damian gets it okay.

He wasn’t worth saving.

He should’ve died during Heretic. He should’ve died in that warehouse. He should’ve died a long time ago. He didn’t deserve to live.

Not with these blood-stained hands of his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Tim. He’s my absolute favorite. But I’m not blind to his flaws. He and Damian’s relationship is not good. At all. They both had an abusive childhood and different ideals of family and love which cause them to clash and fight with each other. (I.e. Damian believes he’s entitled to be in the Batfam and Tim believes that you need to earn the right to be a part of the family) 
> 
> This family is just a dysfunctional mess that will get better. I swear. 
> 
> ~~They all need therapy.~~


	4. Things are not okay

All Damian could see was darkness. A black inky mess where no light shone. Even when he put his hand out in front of him, he couldn’t see his fingers. All he could feel was a biting cold that numbed his nerves and bones. And with his sight gone, it amplified the chill he was feeling.

He shivered. He hugged himself, trying to hold onto some warmth but it did nothing. He was cold. So very cold.

Where was he?

Where were Grayson and Todd?

Where was everyone?

_“Sometimes, I wish she wasn’t lying back then.”_

Damian’s ears perked up at Father’s voice. He looked around trying to find the source of it even though all he could see was black.

_“I wish she really did have a miscarriage when she told me all those years ago.”_

At that, a light shone so brightly Damian had to close his eyes. When he opened them, the darkness was gone (the cold was still there) and he saw Father standing in his study at the Manor.

_“I never wanted that boy here.”_

And wasn’t it just telling how Damian knew Bruce was referring to him?

He looked down at his feet just so he could stop looking at those blue eyes filled with disgust and displeasure.

All he ever wanted when he was growing up was a chance to meet his father. To meet the man that his mother loved and admired. He grew up hearing what a strong and capable fighter Batman was. Even Grandfather commended his prowess. He grew up hearing about Robin and how one day, that mantle will be his as was his birthright.

Mother always said that Batman would accept him because he was a formidable warrior having been raised on the proud teachings of the League. He grew up thinking that was true and when Father knows of his existence, he will accept Damian as his son and heir.

~~Guess that wasn’t the only thing Talia lied to him about.~~

_“Everything was fine until the Demon brat came along.”_

At the sound of a new voice, Damian lifted his head to see Drake sitting at the dining table in the Manor, Brown sitting next to him.

 _“He can’t even take the hint that no one wants such a rude entitled bitch here.”_ She said with a sneer on her face.

He blinked back the tears forming in his eyes and looked away.

To see Todd leaning against a brick wall in an alley, black night sky in the background. Cigarette in hand, he blew out a puff of smoke before adding his two cents about the fifth Robin.

 _“Bruce shouldn’t have brought him back to life. He’s wasted space.”_ Those teal eyes glowed Lazarus green as he turned his head to stare straight at Damian’s own cursed eyes. _“Talia was right to sign your death warrant.”_

He couldn’t help flinching at that.

~~But he wasn’t given any reprieve to build the stone brick walls around his heart back up.~~

_“You should’ve never been Robin.”_

He turned around and saw Grayson standing a few feet from him. And felt a sharp stab in his heart at the sight of those caring blue eyes that he’s come to cherish now stared at him with disgust and hatred.

_“You don’t deserve to be Robin. You tainted the mantle.”_

Damian unconsciously took a step back as he whispered almost silently. “What?”

_“You’re no hero. I was a fool to believe you could ever be one.”_

“We’re partners. We...were the best.”

_“I’m not your Batman and you’re not my family.”_

Grayson turned around and started walking away. And just seeing the back of the last person who ever gave a damn about him.

Something broke inside.

He ran after Grayson, not caring how his limbs screamed in exhaustion, not caring about showing weakness and humiliation at how he was crying like a baby.

He didn’t want Grayson to leave him.

“Grayson wait!” He screamed. “Don’t go!”

I’m sorry. I’ll change. I’ll do better. I’ll be better. Just don’t leave me.

~~Please.~~

“Richard!”

It did nothing. No matter how much he begged and screamed, Grayson never turned around. It wasn’t long before Damian’s tired limbs stopped working and he tripped on nothing. His body hit the ground hard, the air knocked out of him.

He couldn’t get back up. He didn’t have the strength to force this useless body up. Because what was even the point?

They were gone. They were truly and utterly gone.

They left him.

Father. Drake. Todd. Brown. Cain. Gordon. Pennyworth. 

Even Grayson.

They all left him.

He was alone.

So he stayed where he was curled up on the ground, helpless to stop fate from happening again.

_In death and in life, Damian Al Ghul-Wayne was always going to be alone._

.

Dick woke up with a start.

Shit.

Damian was thrashing in his sleep, throwing the blankets on the floor. He was crying, big fat tears rolling down his cheeks.

_He never saw Dami cry like that. He never saw those beautiful green eyes so broken and haunted like that. He never wants to see that sight again._

“It’s okay, Dami.” Dick pulled his baby close to him and wrapped him in a tight hug. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Damian stopped flailing but he hung onto him like Dick was his lifeline, crying harder into his chest.

Dick’s heart bled for him and he hugged him even tighter. Dami was having nightmares. No doubt it was because of what happened in that damn warehouse. He felt his ire and wrath towards Bruce and the rest of them in that damn Manor increase. Because no one noticed Damian was suffering.

_And quite frankly, he wasn’t really in a forgiving mood._

“I don’t want to be alone.” Damian hoarsely whispered, his voice choked with tears and anguish. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“I’ll be better. I’ll be good.”

Dick hugged him closer. “You’re already good, baby.”

But he knew even as he said those things, Damian didn’t believe him. But he won’t stop telling Damian he loved him. He won’t stop saying how he is a hero and he is good.

Still, to hear his baby’s cries and hear how much he was hurting inside…

Hiding his face in Dami’s soft black hair, Dick let his own tears fall, his heart hurting and bleeding for this boy who believed the worst of himself.

_Jason hasn’t arrived yet from chasing down who the fuck hurt their youngest. And neither he nor Dami were in any mood for the long drive to Bludhaven so they made themselves at home._

_After watching that horrifying video, Dick was reluctant to let Damian out of his grasp. Luckily, Dami had no problem sharing a bed in Jason’s spare bedroom. Well, he didn’t say that. But he didn’t raise any objections and when it was time for bed, he buried himself in Dick’s side._

_And Dick could only wrap an arm around him and pull him close, afraid that if he let go, he will lose his Robin._

_~~Again.~~ _

.

Jason has been chasing down leads for quite a while. The guy was one slippery and slimy fellow, but he finally got something though. And oh boy, was Big Bird going to be pissed at who’s behind this.

When he arrived back at his safehouse, he found Dick and Damian ( _When did the baby bat get here?_ ) were still in bed even though it was noon right now. Big bird was lying on his side, humming softly as he ran a hand through Dami’s hair and watched him sleep.

“He had a nightmare.” Dick said in a low voice, not turning his attention towards Jason when he entered the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “He’s only just been able to go back to sleep.”

And this close to them, Jason can see the dark black bags underneath Dickie’s eyes and the tenseness in Damian’s limbs.

“You didn’t sleep either.” He commented.

Dick shrugged and finally lifted his tired blue eyes to look at him. “I’ll survive.” Before turning his gaze back to his baby. He was reluctant to get out of bed and ruin what little rest Dami is getting since the disaster of a night.

“Did you find out who hurt him?”

Jason looked at him for a few seconds, contemplating on how to break the news before deciding to just get it over with.

“You know how I said before that this was possibly a new player on the field? It’s not exactly. I found evidence that the League is behind this.”

“Ra’s?” Dick hissed. “ _That bastard?_ ”

Didn’t he and Talia hurt Damian enough?

Didn’t Damian suffer under their hands enough?

Dick saw red. He could just feel his anger burning, a thrumming rage that makes want to destroy something. He wanted to punch someone in the face. He wanted to— He wanted to—

_Damian made a low whining sound, burying deeper under the covers._

Dick had to calm the fuck down. He stuffed the red anger away, keeping it under lock and key. He didn’t want to wake Damian and have him think the anger was for him.

“...Dick?” He heard Jason say cautiously.

“I’m fine.” He will be when he completely destroys the League.

“So what’s the plan?”

As much as he wanted to go to Bludhaven and get Damian the fuck away from Bruce, it was probably better to stay in Gotham where he could have some allies (especially if the League is involved) instead of being all alone in the Haven.

“I’m going to stay in Gotham for a while.” He said before his voice turned cold. “But Damian is not going back to Bruce. He’s staying with me.”

.

_Wow. What the fuck did Bruce do to get Dick to hate him that much?_

As if he could see the unasked question, Dick sighed before explaining. “Bruce didn’t even know Damian was missing and tortured in the warehouse.”

_What the actual fuck?_

“Damian is not going back to him.” Jason agreed. You would think after fucking things up with four Robins, Bruce would be better at handling the fifth one. But the bastard never learns. And now Damian is paying the price. “If you want, you guys can use this safehouse in the meantime.”

Dick relaxed. And for the first time that morning, his eyes brightened just a little bit. “Thanks, Little Wing.”

“Anytime. Robins got to look out for each other, right?”

Dick had a watery smile on his face.

And Jason felt his heart clenched in guilt. Seeing how Dick was just barely holding on and Damian’s fragile broken state, he vowed to do better.

They both suffered enough.

And when he gets his hands on who dared to hurt their Robin, he was going to put an end to this. Because everyone knows Batman wasn’t going to do a damn thing. Sure, the Big Bats will put them in jail but them still being alive with haunt Baby Bat’s dreams for years to come.

_He knew the feeling with the damn Joker that Bruce still allows to run around and wreck chaos._

When Jason gets his hands on them (if Big Bird didn’t get to them first), he was going to put a bullet through their heads.

It was worth it to get on Bruce’s bad side. It was worth it to be cut out of the Batfam ( _he dealt with it once; he can deal with it again_ ).

He killed for less.

.

Tim searched everywhere in the Manor for the baby demon but he couldn’t find him anywhere. He wasn’t in the library drawing. Or painting in the den. Or playing outside with his pets. He wasn’t even in the BatCave.

Where could he be?

He really needed to talk with him.

“Where’s Damian?”

Bruce raised an eyebrow at that. He knew of his two youngest’s strained relationship. “Dick wanted to spend more time with him.”

Fuck.

Tim did not want to get in between Dick and Damian’s bonding session. He felt like an outsider in their pure and wholesome loving relationship. The demon brat didn’t know how lucky he was to have someone care and love him that much.

He can just talk to Damian later then.

“How is your wound? Is it still hurting?”

He turned his attention back to Bruce. “It’s fine. It doesn't hurt that much.”

“That’s good. Remember not to overexert yourself.”

“I know.”

“Be careful next time.”

“I will.”

Tim told Bruce he was distracted on patrol and someone got a lucky shot in.

_He didn’t mention Damian._

.

To be completely honest, Tim wasn’t sure how he felt about Damian anymore. His feelings were in conflict with each other.

On one hand, he is a massive arrogant and selfish demon brat.

On the other hand…

_He couldn’t get Robin’s shaking too small, too young form out of his mind. He couldn’t stop seeing Damian’s wide fearful-scared-petrified green eyes._

It’s actually what he wanted to talk with Damian about. To see if it was the stress of their civilian and nightlife or if it was actually something more.

He thought back to how quiet and off Damian was acting these past few days. The evidence stacking up was not painting a pretty picture.

~~Something was wrong with their youngest.~~

_Ring. Ring._

He smiled as he answered. “Hey Steph.”

“Hey Ex-Boyfriend. How’s life going for you?”

“Eh. It’s being a bitch like usual.”

It was wonderful to hear her airy laughter again. He missed her.

A few months ago, Steph forgone the vigilante life to focus on her civilian one. She was off doing university (on a Wayne scholarship) in pre-med with hopes to go to medical school afterward.

She was doing great. She was living a generally normal life. She didn’t have to deal with the pain and hurt that comes with being a Bat. But he still keeps in touch with her. Even if they were no longer dating, she was still one of his best friends and one of the most important people in his life.

“Besides life being a total bitch, is there anything noteworthy going on?”

“Damian has been acting weird lately.” He confessed.

He could talk to her about his conflicting feelings. Especially since Damian was an ass to her too. And she could hopefully provide some insight or advice in this whole...mess.

“Weird, how?”

“He’s been really quiet that I find it kind of concerning.”

“Maybe he’s just growing up. He could be going through puberty.”

“I don’t think it’s that. Look, last night Bruce had me go on patrol with him. And Damian froze in the middle of a fight.” He took a deep breath. “You should’ve seen his eyes, Steph. He was practically terrified of me.”

“Well, anyone would be if they saw your bitch ugly face in the middle of the night.” She teased before sobering up. “But in actual seriousness, that sounds serious. Have you talked to him about that?”

“Not yet. He’s spending time with Dick. And I just don’t know what to say to him. I mean we hate each other. Why the fuck would I even be concerned about him? I’m afraid he’ll think I’m just making fun of him or something.”

“Your relationship is still not great, huh?”

“He’s a _demon brat_.”

“Well, yeah. But before I left for college, we were actually doing a bit better. And he’s not so bad.”

“He still calls you Fatgirl.”

“It’s more like an endearing nickname at this point. He’s like that feral chipmunk that you just can’t get out of the house and before you know it, you’re giving him food and a bed and affection. He just crawls into your heart like that.”

“Yeah, no.”

“Okay. Just for clarity’s sake, would you ever give Damian a chance?”

She only sounded curious but he still felt defensive. “You’re on his side?”

“I’m on nobody’s side, Bitch-othy.” He can practically see her rolling her eyes. “I’m just seeing the facts as they are.”

“Well, the facts are that me and Demon will never get along. And that is the whole crisis I am dealing with right now.”

“Okay, enough of this." She let out a suffering sigh before railing on him. "Boo hoo. Save the fucking pity party, Tim. He’s a fucking kid. You need to grow the hell up and see past his demon exterior.”

“He tried to kill me!” _Is everyone forgetting about that very important tidbit?_ He still have the scars.

“You get along with Jason and he tried to murder you.”

“That’s different.”

“Is it though?”

He didn’t respond.

He gets along better with Jason because Jason actually grew the fuck up and apologized for trying to kill him so many times. He never got an apology from Damian. And with Damian’s constant hostility left and right, Tim was not at all willing to extend an olive branch to the brat. What Damian dished out, he returned it ten-fold and the cycle of hate continued.

Although he does have to admit (now that he is looking back) that Damian has mellowed out a bit. He wasn’t as homicidal or pretentious as he was when he was 10. They still butt heads from time to time but Tim could’ve seen that Damian was getting better and could’ve extended the olive branch then.

He was just too blinded by the past and their bad history to ever do such a thing.

After a few seconds, Steph sighed again but her voice softened. “Look Tim. As much as Damian is a demon brat, he is still just a kid.”

The image of Damian’s too small, too young form came to mind.

_Yeah, I know._

.

Jason wouldn’t admit it out loud but he wished the demon brat was acting his usual arrogant, brash, and pretentious self. Because seeing him so lifeless and still was _~~unnerving~~_.

“Hey, kiddo.” He smiled at him. This is the first time they actually interacted since the warehouse incident.

Damian merely focused his blank green eyes on him before saying a short and clipped “Todd.”

Jason ruffled his hair. “You’re good, kid. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.”

And he could get why Dick was in so much pain because seeing those green eyes lose their blankness and just stare at him with such broken incredulity as if what he just said was utter nonsense, was heartbreaking.

_Can they even make it up to Damian? Can they actually fix this?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it wasn’t clear enough, the beginning is a dream/nightmare Damian was having.


	5. Things are worse

The week was difficult for Damian. 

He doesn’t understand why. Grayson was with him (it was all he ever wanted) so why wasn’t he okay? Why was he still having nightmares? Why couldn’t he control his body shaking and trembling at times? Why was he still such a fucking mess? 

He could hear Todd and Grayson talking with each other (when they think he’s sleeping) in hushed whispers about him. How he wasn’t getting better. How the nightmares were getting worse. How he wasn’t eating as much as he should. 

But even with how much of a mess he was, they didn’t leave him because he was too difficult. They stayed. 

_Why?_

He wasn’t worth their love. Or care. Or affection. He wasn’t worth Grayson’s sunny smiles or Todd’s warm hugs. He was just an inconvenience and a bother. He wasn’t worth their efforts. 

He was worth 

~~_Nothing_.~~

.

“Why are you still here?” Damian cried into Todd’s chest. 

Once again, the house was woken up by his screaming and Todd rushed to his and Grayson’s room (who was out on patrol) and immediately picked him up like he was a little child and sat him down in his lap. 

_He wouldn’t admit out loud that he felt safer there._

Todd was running his hand through his hair (much like Grayson did). “Why wouldn’t I be here for you?” 

“I’m not getting better. You and Grayson aren’t getting any sleep and you’re forced to take care of me.” 

Todd gently lifted his chin up so his broken teary green eyes could see warm teal ones. “Okay. First of all, no one is forcing me or Dick to do anything. We’re here because we want to be here.” 

_But why? Why would they want to spend time with him? Don’t they have better things to do?_

“Why?” He asked hoarsely, his tears falling faster down his cheeks. “I don’t understand. I’m not getting better.”

Todd’s eyes turned sad but he still had a soft smile on his face. “We’re not expecting you to get better this quick. We just want you to hopefully feel safe and loved here.” 

But.

But he doesn’t deserve that. 

.

Robin hasn’t been seen out patrolling at all. Both the public and the criminal element were asking about how strange that was but no vigilante has commented on it. Batman was silent on the matter. 

_Damian confessed in a hoarse voice that he felt the uniform was suffocating him and he hated it. He couldn’t bring himself to put on the domino mask again._

Red Hood and Nightwing make an appearance some days but most nights were dedicated to being there for Damian when he wakes up crying and screaming from having nightmares. 

As for their civilian lives, Dick was the one who’s been dropping off and picking Damian up from school. They were currently going through finals and it won’t be long until summer is here. Dick already told his supervisor that he was taking some time off for a family matter. Due to how he is a hardworking officer who generally doesn’t cause any trouble and really hasn't used any vacation time, his time off was granted. And he was thankful for that. When Dami was at school, he spent the time catching up on some of his cases with Jason’s help. 

They were also making a plan (unknown to Damian) to take on the League. As much as Dick wanted to barge in there this very second and dish out some very-much-Bruce-not-approved violence to Ra’s and Talia, there was a reason that the Al Ghuls lasted as long as they did and the pair needed to think smart on this. 

And throughout the whole week, Bruce hasn’t stopped by the safehouse once even though it was no secret Dick and Damian were there. Dick didn’t know whether to feel happy that Bruce was backing off of Damian or sad that he wasn’t fighting harder for his son. 

The rest of the family knew that Bruce and Dick were on the outs and were neutral with taking any one’s side. Tim and Babs texted multiple times (and called his com during patrol) asking what was going on. He simply told them that he and Bruce had a disagreement. That’s it. He didn’t tell them about the warehouse or anything more. 

They didn’t ask about Damian and how he was doing. 

He understands that the Bats are an unemotional bunch of people who rather repress everything inside than talk it out but that is no fucking excuse. How hard was it to ask “How are you?” or “How was your day?”

No wonder his baby thought he was unloved if this was the fucking treatment he received on a daily basis. 

.

It was Saturday and Dick was enjoying a lazy day with Damian. 

They spent the morning just watching whatever Jason had in his DVD cabinet, which was just chock full of different Pride and Prejudice films. He couldn’t help but smile fondly when he found them. It wasn’t his taste but apparently, Dami enjoyed them so he sat on the couch, cuddling his baby, and watched boring classic literature for five hours straight ( _Little Wing would be so proud right now if he knew_ ). 

Dami was finishing the latest movie while Dick was making them lunch. A simple sandwich even he can’t mess up. Jason was off talking with some League contacts (he could relatively trust) that he had but he promised to be back before dinner. He was trying to start spending more time with Dami and fix his not-poor-but-also-not-great relationship with him ( _But at least he was trying. It was more effort than the rest of the fucking Bats put in_ _—_ _Dick will never stop being bitter about that_ ). 

“I thought you were going to Bludhaven.” Even though Dami’s voice was subdued and quiet, he was still happy to hear it. Nowadays, Dami doesn’t talk a lot or at all. It was concerning. 

“I’m helping Jason with something.” Dick said with a smile. 

He was hoping his infectious sunny attitude and warm smiles can lift his baby’s mood. When it happens, it was incredible to see those beautiful green eyes lose their dullness —even if it’s only just by a little. Progress was progress no matter how small. 

“So we’re going to stay here for a while before going to Bludhaven.” 

Dami peered up at him, confused. “You’re… still going to take me?” 

“You’re not going back to Bruce. You deserve better than him.” 

“But. But he’s Father.” His baby had such a bewildered expression that it hurt. 

Dick kneeled down, both knees touching the floor. And in a soft voice, he said, “That doesn’t mean he’s actually good at being a dad. Bruce can make mistakes too and he can learn from them. But you shouldn’t have to wait until he learns to receive the love and care you deserve. That’s why I took you away.” 

Dami averted his eyes. He was quiet for a few seconds. “Father will not be pleased.” 

“You leave Bruce to me.” Dick means it. 

.

Dick was fighting with Bruce and things in the Batfam were a bit tense. Dick hasn't left for Bludhaven yet. 

When Nightwing patrolled, it was with Red Hood mostly and on his side of the town so the rest of the Bats didn't really cross their paths. But the few times they did, it was awkward (Nightwing had a cold biting tone when he talked and was a bit more aggressive with punching criminals). 

Tim wasn’t sure on the specifics of their fight this time but he knew it had to deal with Damian. 

_He couldn’t get Robin’s shaking too small, too young form out of his mind. He couldn’t stop seeing Damian’s wide fearful-scared-petrified green eyes._

He was still thinking about his relationship with him. It was always at the forefront of his mind as he looked back and see just how much hostility existed between them. 

_Broken green eyes haunted him._

He just knew that Nightwing’s off behavior correlated with how Robin hasn’t been seen lately. And yes, Tim does have a certain dislike for the demon brat but that doesn’t mean he isn’t worried or concerned about him. 

He was. 

Because even he can see that there is something wrong with Damian. But given Dick’s recent very-protective attitude towards him lately, he didn’t want to piss him off by bringing Damian up. He didn’t think he had a right to since their relationship was horrible and Dick disapproved of how antagonistic they were to each other. 

The only other way to get information was through Jason (who they were staying with —it wasn’t that outlandish, Jason has been getting along better with the family). Only Jason was offline at the moment. 

Well, Tim can always just hack into his computer. It’s not that much of a struggle for him. 

.

.

.

_A voice (cruel and sadistic) said. "Honestly, Robin. How pathetic can you fall? You are no longer a League assassin because your mother wanted nothing more to do with you. You are very clearly not a Bat because let's face it. What good can you do? You're a killer. They don't care for you. They don't love you."_

_"They do." He whispered._

_Before another bolt of electricity shocked him._

_"Do they, really? You tried to kill them. You hurt them over and over again. How could they love you?"_

….What the fuck? 

For all of his flaws and unpleasantness, Damian didn’t deserve that. 

No one did, least of all him. 

And _oh shit_. 

Looking at the time stamp, this was around the time Damian came home from patrol when he was benched and Bruce grounded him again. 

This was the night. 

Why the hell did Damian not say anything? 

He definitely got broken ribs. And _—_

(His eyes widened in realization) 

_“I told you that you were benched for a reason. You can’t obey orders and I am proven right.” Bruce lectured a quiet Damian who didn’t have a chance to speak up as his father kept on berating how irresponsible and reckless he was being._

_He was harsh, yes. But from where he was sitting at the BatComputer, Tim could read in Bruce’s body language just how worried and anxious he was._

_And Damian needed to learn to stop disobeying orders so Tim stayed quiet and said nothing in his defense._

_—_ no one healed him. Damain took off his uniform and went straight to bed. Even with their high tolerance to pain, those injuries must’ve still hurt. 

Yet. 

No one asked him if he was okay. No one checked on him. He didn’t for sure. But he knew Bruce and Alfred didn’t either. They usually leave Damian’s room alone because any attempt on entering there was met with a vicious hostility. 

~~But could they blame him? When the place he was living at was not really a home?~~

_Whatever._

He could feel the bile rising up his throat when he remembered what he was thinking that night. 

_And it wasn't until he was gone, did Tim notice something was wrong with this picture. Damian's disobedience wasn't anything new but his silence was._

_Maybe someone took the brat down a peg or two._

_Whatever. He shrugged and turned his attention back to the Batcomputer. He had cases to do._

_The demon brat probably deserved it._

He was awful. He was cruel. He was _—_

**_Wrong._ **

Damian really was just a child. 

And he didn’t deserve to be treated as a villain with no chance of redemption. 

.

It was late in the afternoon and Bruce found himself in Damian’s room, sitting on his bed. The place was bare. The artwork was gone from the walls. There was no clutter of schoolwork or art supplies on the desk. There was no life here. It was empty. 

He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. He really messed up with Damian and Dick. 

He sent Dick a text at the beginning of the week, asking him about Damian’s wellbeing and hasn’t received an answer yet (He probably deserved that to be honest). He was debating on sending Damian one or calling him. Neither option felt right. When he looked at his phone’s history, he was surprised that he doesn’t communicate with his youngest as much as he does with his other kids. He felt like a failure as a father. 

~~He was one.~~

And the worst part is that he wouldn’t even notice. 

He, the proclaimed World’s Greatest Detective, wouldn’t even notice he was neglecting his son. He pushed Damian to the side. 

And saying he was way too busy was no excuse. He did this. It was all his fault that he let things come to this. 

A few months ago, Bruce found out that Ra’s and Talia wanted Damian back as he was the only viable way to continue the Al Ghul bloodline. His cousin and only other grandchild, Mara Al Ghul, was found dead. 

And with his perfect genetics that Talia ensured, Damian was perfect for the role. Even though he was disowned, he still has the Al Ghul blood in him. And Ra’s wanted that. The pedigree of being Batman and the Demon’s Daughter’s son. 

It’s why he was so distant lately. He was either out there fighting the League or trying to figure out their next move. He took on the task himself, not telling anyone because he didn’t want any of his children dragged into this and involved with the League (every single one of them had bad memories associated with them and he didn’t want to let them go through more trauma). 

He thought he was protecting them. 

He grounded Damian after that patrol he so recklessly went on out of fear that a League assassin would snatch him up. He was afraid of coming home and Damian would no longer be there and back in that psycho bitch of a mother's hands. 

He was happy that Damian was finally behaving well at school and not fighting with anyone. But maybe he misread the signs. Maybe his genius mind wasn’t seeing what was actually there. 

He thought back to what Dick said and the way Damian was hunched over, standing close near his brother. 

_“I’m taking him with me to Bludhaven.”_

_“What? Why?”_

_“Because it is clear that you are not being an actual father to him.”_

_“I’m his father.”_

_“Then start fucking acting like his dad.”_

_“Don’t speak to me like that.”_

_“I’ll speak to you however I damn well pleased. I’m taking Damian and that’s final. When you were lost to time, I had papers drawn up to give me custody of Damian. Don’t make me play that card.”_

_“You’ll terminate my rights as his Father? You’ll do that to Damian?”_

_“Yes. Because it’s clear that you are not the father he deserves. Don’t push me Bruce. I love you but Damian deserves better than this. He deserves better than you.”_

He thought back to how Dick acted protectively over him. His chest panged with hurt when he realized that Damian’s green eyes were blank and dull back then. They were as empty as the bedroom he was sitting in. 

Much to his shame, he didn’t notice any of that at the time. 

Maybe Dick was right in taking Damian away. 

It seems all he does is mess up when it comes to his youngest. His son deserves better than him. 

.

_I’m sorry for not treating you better and giving you the care and attention you deserve._

It was a text from Father. The only interaction he had with Father since Grayson took him away from the Manor a week ago. 

He was expecting Father’s disappointment and lectures on how irresponsible he was for going with Grayson. He was expecting words of how much of a brat he was acting right now. 

He was not expecting an apology. 

But what was Father apologizing for? What did he have to apologize for? 

.

_Knock. Knock._

Damian’s attention was turned away when he heard someone was at the door. 

_Who could it be?_

Grayson had to leave for a bit even though he didn’t want to leave Dami all alone but Todd needed help with something. And they both have a key to this place so they wouldn’t bother with knocking. 

He cautiously opened it. 

It was Drake. 

_What was he doing here?_

.

Tim had no plan. 

After watching that disgusting video, he just—he just needed to see Damian with his own eyes. He needed to see that he was okay and alive. 

He rushed here from the Manor. But now that he was standing here, his mouth was dry and he couldn’t seem to form the words as he stared at Damian’s blank green eyes. 

“Hey.” He gave a short wave with a small awkward smile (He was trying to be friendly. Fuck it! This is so awkward) 

Understandably, Damian looked at him like he was a crazy person. “...What are you doing here?” 

He took a deep breath. He wanted to make things right. He was going to take the first step in doing so. 

“I...I’m so sorry. I should’ve tried harder to be a better brother to you.” 

Damain stared at him, quiet for a few seconds. “Why are you apologizing? You were right. I wasn’t someone you could call family.”

_What the fuck did he do? He fucked up big time._

Was this how Damian really thought all along? Was this how little he saw himself? How could Tim misread the whole situation this badly? 

“You’re wrong. _I_ was the one in the wrong. Not you. You deserve an apology.” He averted his eyes to the side as he said quietly. “You deserve better.” 

.

~~Who knew that was the thing that broke the camel’s back?~~

.

Damian took a step back. Why was Drake saying that? Why do people keep saying he deserves better? 

~~He didn’t.~~

“What do you want?” He whispered. 

Drake looked back at him, confused. “...What?” 

“I don’t get it. What do you want from me?” 

“I...I don’t want anything from you. I just wanted —I needed to apologize to you.” 

The blankness disappeared from his green eyes as red took over. His voice raised, he snapped. “Why though?! I hurt you. I hurt Brown and Pennyworth and Father. I hurt everything around me.” 

His chest was heaving. Tears were streaming down his face. He didn’t bother wiping them away. 

“You say that I deserve apologies and that I deserve better! Why now? I did nothing to earn that. I’m still the same selfish spoiled demon brat you hate!” 

He didn’t understand. 

_I’m sorry for not treating you better and giving you the care and attention you deserve._

Father. Drake. 

Why were they pushing things? Why weren’t they happy? He’s out of the Manor. He’s not in their way anymore. 

He’s finally seeing what everyone has been saying all along. That he is unworthy of wearing the R symbol on his chest. He was unworthy of being a Wayne and a Bat. 

He doesn’t belong with them. 

~~He never did.~~

.

Tim was frozen in place. And it was like he was seeing Damian for the first time. That he really was just a child. 

His heart hurt, clenching in distress and suffocating guilt. 

Because he did this. He wasn’t the one to push Damian off the cliff but he definitely helped push him to the edge. 

_How the hell can he fix this?_

_Can he even fix this or was it too late?_

.

Damian didn’t understand how to interpret these mixed signals coming from everyone. 

Why were they suddenly caring about him? Why were they suddenly giving a damn? He’s already accepted that he is nothing, that he isn’t worth saving. So why were they suddenly changing the script? 

_He wanted to scream, wanted to cry in frustration._

He didn’t understand what people expected of him anymore. 


	6. How did it come to this?

_What did he do?_

Tim couldn’t help himself. He let go of all his doubts and hesitation and rushed forward. He wrapped his arms around Damian and pulled him close to his chest. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” _I’m sorry for never being there._

Damian batted his fists against him but Tim never let go, just kept on murmuring a never ending stream of apologies. 

_What the hell did he do?_

“I’m sorry, Damian.”

Soon all of his strength left him, and Damian sat there crying and laid his head on Tim’s chest. In a hoarse whisper, he said, “I’m sorry too.” _I’m sorry for trying to kill you._

As tears fell down both of their faces, all they could say was “I’m sorry” over and over again. They were apologizing for everything. 

_I’m sorry for all the hostility._

_I’m sorry for never giving you a chance._

_I’m sorry for not being a better brother._

_I’m sorry._

.

“I got you, Little Wing.” Dick was helping Jason up the stairs. 

Dick hadn’t wanted to leave his baby all alone in the safehouse. Even though he knew Jason had good security, especially since both Tim and Babs did it, he was still scared that he would come home to an empty house because the League somehow managed to get a hold of Dami again. 

_Nothing was invincible. Everything has a weakness. You just have to know where to look. That was one of the many things Bruce drilled in his head since he was a kid._

But Jason needed help. When he went digging for intel on the League, he was not expecting Shiva to show up ( _What was she even doing here so close to Gotham? Okay, it was a few cities over but the point still stands. She’s usually across continents_ ). Obviously things ended in a fight and he managed to leave the battle alive with a few new scars and wounds. 

He was proud to say he fucking sliced her right eye. The bitch deserved it and so much worse. Although that little shit dug a wicked knife deep into his thigh and it was an utter bitch to walk. Hence, the need to call Big Bird for a pickup. 

“I really fucking hate Shiva.” Jason seethed as his leg flared up in pain again. 

Fuck. Why couldn’t he get a safehouse with an elevator next time? Though knowing Gotham’s shitty luck, the elevator would be out of commission most (all) of the time so why even bother in the first place? 

“Yeah. She’s a total bitch.” Dick agreed. 

Jason leaned against the door while Dick opened the door. When they entered the apartment, they were surprised to see Tim and Damian on the floor, hugging and crying. 

“Dami!” Dick cried rushing forward to scoop up his baby. Damian buried his head in the crook of his neck and cried harder, whispering “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Grayson.” 

Dick saw red. He turned and narrowed his eyes at Tim. “What did you do?” 

Tim was still sitting on the floor, staring up at his big brother. He was hiccupping and it was hard to speak through his _cries-tears-pain_. But he forced himself to talk. 

“I d-didn’t know.” He said hoarsely. He needed Dick to know that. “I swear I didn’t know.” 

Dick was shaking. His vision was still clouded in angry red. He knew that he should comfort Tim. It wasn’t his fault but his baby was crying…

_The rest of the Bats didn’t ask about Damian and how he was doing._

_He understands that the Bats are an unemotional bunch of people who rather repress everything inside than talk it out but that is no fucking excuse. How hard was it to ask “How are you?” or “How was your day?”_

_No wonder his baby thought he was unloved if this was the fucking treatment he received on a daily basis._

He abruptly turned around and headed toward his and Dami’s room. 

“Dick!” 

Tim scrambled to his feet to run after him but Jason held him back. 

“I didn’t know, Jason. I swear I didn’t know he was tortured in the warehouse. I wasn’t— I didn’t mean to hurt him.” He rambled even as the tears never stopped falling. 

“I know.” Jason hugged him close and Tim cried in his chest. “I know, Baby bird.” 

“I didn’t know.” He said again. 

He didn’t know Damian was hurting all this time. He didn’t know he was hurting Damian even more. He didn’t know he was pushing Damian to the breaking point. 

He didn’t know. 

~~And whose fault was that?~~

He shut his eyes tightly, fresh tears appearing. 

~~It was all his fault.~~

He should’ve been better. He should’ve done better. 

“I didn’t know.” It was all he could say but it didn’t change a damn thing. 

.

When Dick arrived in their shared bedroom, Damian was no longer crying but he was still and silent. He moved away from him to sit against the headboard, bringing up his knees close to his chest and looking for too small, too young in Todd’s oversized hoodie. 

Dick sat next to him, running a hand through his baby’s soft hair. The red was gone from his vision, the anger he felt earlier locked away. 

“I’m sorry, Grayson.”

Damian didn’t quite know exactly what he was apologizing for. Maybe because he was so difficult. Maybe it was how much of a burden and a mess he was. Maybe it was his very existence. He didn’t know but he felt like Grayson deserved an apology. 

“Dami, what are you apologizing for? You did nothing wrong.”

“I’m a burden.”

“No. You’re not. You are not and never was a burden, baby.”

“That’s not what others say.” 

As he told Drake, he is still the same selfish spoiled demon brat people hated. So what changed? 

_Because he for sure hasn’t._

Is it because he is no longer living at the Manor that they are taking notice? Was it because he is no longer under Father’s supervision and now under the care of Grayson and Todd that people suddenly realize he exists? 

“Did Tim tell you that?” 

“Drake said—” He swallowed the lump in his throat before continuing. “Drake said that I deserved better.” He looked down. “I don’t understand what he means by that.” 

Dick’s heart bled at the open and honest confusion on his face. His poor baby. “Dami.” 

“I don’t deserve your love.”

“Because you’re a killer right?” 

Damian looked away. “I’m a bad person.” 

“You feel remorse for your actions and that to me, doesn’t sound like something a bad person would feel.” Dick pressed a soft kiss on Dami’s head. “You had a terrible childhood but you didn’t let that define. You broke free of what you felt was wrong and when it mattered most, you chose to do what was right. You chose to be a hero. You are good Dami.” 

But he knew Dami didn’t believe him when he said that. Just like all the times he told him before. 

“I killed people. I deserve Arkham.” 

Dick moved so he sat right in front of him. He slowly took Dami’s small hands in his. “Damian, do you think I deserve Arkham?” 

Dami shot his head up to face him with an incredulous expression. “What? No! You’re Grayson. You’re a hero.”

_Unlike me._

Dick softly squeezed his hands. “Did you know I killed someone too?” 

“...What?” 

“It was back when Tim was Robin and we were dealing with the Joker. He had beaten Tim up really badly and started taunting about Jason’s death that I lost my self-control. I beat him to death.”

“Then how—?”

“Bruce brought him back to life.”

“You didn’t actually kill him then.” His victims would never wake up again. Their blood was forever on his hands. 

“I did. I was the one who brought his heart to stop beating. For a few minutes in the world, the Joker was truly dead and I was his killer.” 

“Grayson…” 

“I can’t claim it was in self-defense. I killed him in cold blood. He couldn’t defend himself and I kept beating him up.”

Damian was quiet for a minute before moving so he sat in Grayson’s lap and he felt his brother wrap his arms tightly around him. In a quiet voice, he confessed. “...I keep seeing their faces at night and their blood on my hands.” 

He felt Grayson laid his head on top of his. “The Joker was in my nightmares for months after I killed him.” 

“They would scream at me how I didn’t deserve to live when they couldn’t.”

“My parents would say how dark I was turning and I wasn’t the child they raised or wanted anymore.” 

“You and the others would say I never deserved to be Robin.” 

Grayson hugged him tighter. “You know that’s wrong, right? Robin was my legacy and I chose you to wear my family’s color and my name. I wanted you to.”

“But why?”

“Because when I looked at little 10-year-old you, I saw a good person who just needed guidance and a friend. I still see a good person now.” 

Damian was looking at him with wide eyes before saying in a small broken voice. “I tainted the mantle.”

“No baby. You did the mantle proud.” 

.

Jason steered Tim into his bedroom. He stopped crying but he was huddled into himself. Even when Jason stabbed a batarang in his chest and almost strangled him, Tim didn’t look as small and devastated as he did now. 

Tim sat down on the edge of the bed, absentmindedly biting his bottom lip as he played with the threads of his shirt. Before he suddenly bolted upright, almost scaring Jason who was in the middle of picking out more comfortable clothes to change into. 

“Baby bird?” He glanced over at him. 

Tim remembered. 

_Damian definitely got broken ribs. And_ _—_

_(His eyes widened in realization)_

_—_ _no one healed him. Damain took off his uniform and went straight to bed. Even with their high tolerance to pain, those injuries must’ve still hurt._

“Damian’s hurt.” 

“If you’re talking about the broken bones,” He didn’t miss Tim’s flinch at that, “Dick and I already wrapped them and everything. We’re making sure that Baby bat takes his medicine and doesn’t over do it. His injuries have been healing nicely so far.” 

“I didn’t know.” And fuck, he thought he exhausted all his tears already. He angrily wiped them away only for new ones to appear. 

Why the hell was he like this? 

He didn’t have a right to cry. He didn’t have a right to feel sorry. Not after he — 

**_Fucking didn’t know a damn thing._ **

He didn’t realize Jason moved closer to him until he was crushed in a hug. He struggled to get out of his grasp _(he didn’t deserve comfort, damn it. Not after what he did_ _and didn’t_ _do to Damian)_ when Jason let out a soft grunt of pain. 

He froze, wanting to pull away if only the big bad Hood would let him. “...You’re hurt.” 

Is the only thing he’s capable of is hurting everyone around him? He got his parents killed. His friends (the team he was the leader of —everything fell on his shoulders) were dead. He hurt Steph. He hurt Damian. 

He hurt people. He gets people hurt. 

_Oh god, why couldn’t he see it before now?_

The problem wasn’t Damian all along. 

~~It was him.~~

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll deal with it.” Jason pulled him closer. “Just cry okay? I promise I won’t judge.”

He had a wry grin on his face but it eased Tim’s nerves even if it didn’t quite calm down the rampant negative thoughts clogging up his head. It took a minute before he took the offer and buried his head in his chest, his tears flowing silently down his face. 

“I didn’t know, Jason.” He whispered quietly. “I swear I didn’t know.” 

Jason hugged him tighter. “I know. 

“We need a proper talk.”

“I know.” 

And as Tim kept sobbing quietly, Jason held onto him (his pain forgotten), remembering his own negative experiences with the once Robin in his arms. 

He closed his eyes. 

_This family is so fucking messed up._

.

It wasn’t long before Dami fell asleep in his lap. Dick laid him down comfortably on the bed and tucked him with a soft sad smile. For a few seconds, he took in the sight of how open and relaxed his baby looked. 

_Here’s to hoping Dami gets happy dreams tonight._

Making no sound, he left the room and quietly closed the door behind him. 

The light in the living room was the only one on and Jason was laying on the couch reading a book. He glanced up briefly when Dick entered the room and sat down in the armchair before turning his attention back to Pride and Prejudice (although they both knew he wasn’t actually reading it anymore). 

“You need something?” 

Dick shook his head. “I wanted to see how you and Tim were doing.” 

His eyes saddened when he thought of his other little brother and he felt a sharp pang in his chest at how he so rudely dismissed him earlier.

“Baby bird’s hogging the bed.” 

“How is he?” 

“He’s seen better days.” 

“Thanks for taking care of him.” 

Jason shrugged. “All I did was be a human pillow.” 

But Dick didn’t miss the slight pink blush on his face and smiled softly. He always knew Jason would be a good big brother. He’s amazing at taking care of Damian. But of course, the big bad Red Hood would never admit to being “so soft” out loud. 

“And how are you doing?” He said instead. “You’re not tired?” 

Jason shrugged again. “I can’t fall asleep.” 

“How is your leg doing?” 

“It doesn’t hurt that much anymore. How’s Damian?” 

“He’s asleep too." Before Dick blurted out in a rush. "Did Tim seem mad at me?” 

_No. The kid was too busy bawling his eyes out at how horrible he treated Damian._

But Jason didn’t say that. Instead, he looked up and noticed how deep and dark Big bird’s eyes were. His bright crystal blue eyes were no longer sparkling clear (they really haven’t been lately but tonight it was more pronounced). He took note of the faint tremors of fatigue lining his exhausted limbs. 

“You should go back to sleep.” 

“I could keep you company.” 

It was pathetically easy to see what Dick was not saying. He wanted to talk to Tim even if he would sacrifice precious sleep to stay up for him. 

“I’m good.” 

Dick looked like he wanted to say something more but Jason gave him a pointed look. “Just go to bed, Big bird. Tim will still be here in the morning and we can all talk this out.” 

He smiled sheepishly. “Am I that easy to read?” 

“Only when you're dead on your feet like right now. Honestly, you look worse than zombie Tim which is saying a lot.” 

“Alright. I got the hint.” But Dick's smile turned more genuine so Jason counted it as a win.

.

Taking Jason’s advice, Dick went back into his room. He slipped into bed where Dami immediately curled up at his side, clutching his shirt tightly as if reassuring Grayson was still here and didn’t ~~permanently~~ leave him. 

_Not everything can be fixed just like that. He knows this all too well._

For all that the Bats were detectives, they were horrible at seeing through each other’s masks. They were way too good at hiding things close to their chest. 

Damian has a boatload of issues just like the rest of them. He insults, lashes out, and puts distance from everyone to protect himself from being hurt. Because regardless of what others may think, he’s extremely insecure. He fears being abandoned and not being enough. It’s why he pushes himself to be the best and to act the best. To him, it was the safest option that would hurt him the least. 

_His heart bled further for his baby brother. Dami deserves so much more._

Dick pressed a soft kiss on top of his baby’s head. 

_I would never stop choosing you, Damian._

.

.

.

_Knock. Knock._

It was nearing 1 in the morning. Tim was fast asleep on Jason’s bed, worn out by all his crying and being an emotional mess. Dick and Damian were in their room. Hopefully, Dick took his advice to stop worrying so much and go to sleep. But Jason didn’t check on them. On the off chance they were asleep, he didn’t want to bother and ruin the rest they both needed. 

So the task of answering the door fell on Jason’s shoulders. 

He was only awake because he didn’t quite feel like sleeping yet. Even though he was physically worn out from the fight with Shiva and the emotional comfort he gave Replacement, he had a restlessness in his veins that wouldn’t calm down. 

Hence, the book reading. Which was interrupted yet again. This time by someone knocking on the door. 

Or he could just ignore it. 

_Knock. Knock._

Who the hell could be so persistent at this time of night? He was prepared to go on a cursing spree but when he opened the door, the words died in his throat. 

It was Bruce.


	7. He is still my son

Jason has been on tentative footing with the Bats for a good while now since he agreed to their no-killing rule. He teams up with a few of them from time to time. He even stops by the Manor sometimes. But he never had to deal with Bruce —the big Daddybats— by himself. There was always someone else nearby to play mediator. 

And with the whole situation with Damian and how the World’s Greatest Detective didn’t even know what happened to his own damn son, he made sure not to cross Batman’s path. Because he wasn’t sure if he could restrain himself from pressing the trigger. 

_Hasn’t Bruce let down enough Robins —_ **_sons_** _? When the hell would he learn to actually be the father they deserve?_

“What the hell are you doing here?” He shot his former ~~father~~ mentor a dirty glare. 

Though to be fair, it was Bruce who was here, not Batman (so maybe he did learn something in the past few weeks). And it wasn’t hard to miss how Bruce looked absolutely nothing like himself. 

He had black bags underneath his eyes. And his eyes were stormy and dark, almost having a haunted look. He could give sleep-deprived Tim a run for his money. 

“Yeah, no. I don’t want an explanation.” Jason ran a hand over his face. He was way too tired for this shit. Tonight's events were finally weighing down on him. “I’m going to bed. Sleep on the couch and we’ll talk in the morning.” 

He didn’t bother waiting for an answer. He turned around, picked up his book, and went straight to his bedroom. 

Yeah, he totally wasn’t going to get any sleep at this rate. He could pretend though as he keeps Baby bird company. 

.

Bruce was lying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, kept company with the sounds of Gotham's nightlife. It was oddly comforting and he could almost be lulled to sleep by the background noise. 

But he couldn’t sleep. His thoughts were running rampant. His emotions were too strung up for him to relax. 

And as he mind numbingly counted the cracked lines in the white plaster, he thought back to earlier and what led him here. 

.

Before he went on patrol, he noticed that he received an email from Tim. Not unusual since he usually emails solved cases, intel for current cases, or possible future threats. What was a little odd was the video link embedded and no text attached. Tim usually sends him a little bit more than that. 

But he thought nothing of it and clicked on it. 

_A voice (cruel and sadistic) said. "Honestly, Robin. How pathetic can you fall? You are no longer a League assassin because your mother wanted nothing more to do with you. You are very clearly not a Bat because let's face it. What good can you do? You're a killer. They don't care for you. They don't love you."_

_"They do." He whispered._

_Before another bolt of electricity shocked him._

_"Do they, really? You tried to kill them. You hurt them over and over again. How could they love you?"_

_Robin whimpered as he whispered that the Bats must love him. “They do” over and over again._

_Until the pain grew too much for him to ignore the truth. His voice grew smaller as he said. “...They don’t.”_

_"Don't worry, baby. It wasn't so hard to figure out. It's been 18 hours and no one showed up. Face it. You don't matter to them. You don't matter at all."_

_And in a hoarse voice, Robin (looking far too small, far too young) confessed. "I just wanted them to be proud of me and love me....I just wanted to be one of them."_

_"You never will be."_

His son was hurt. His youngest was tortured over and over again. And the worst part was he didn’t even know. Damian had to save himself because his family —his own father— failed him. 

And what did he do when his baby boy arrived home (finally safe and sound from those monsters)? 

_“I told you that you were benched for a reason. You can’t obey orders and I am proven right.” Bruce lectured a quiet Damian who didn’t have a chance to speak up as his father kept on berating how irresponsible and reckless he was being._

He made things worse. He didn’t even think to hear Damian’s side of things. He didn’t think to check on him for injuries (he didn’t see there was anything wrong with him). He, the World’s Greatest Detective, couldn’t see just how much his son suffered. Dick was right to take him away. 

Being Batman blinded him to what truly mattered: being a father. 

When Damian came to the Manor at 10 years old, Bruce didn’t know what to think. He truly didn’t know what to make of this weapon that Talia raised to be used against him. 

To his shame, he didn’t see Damian as a kid in need of guidance. He saw him as an enemy and treated him in a hostile manner which certainly didn’t help matters. 

He forgot Damian was just a child. 

_His child._

_His son._

Although things are better now than they were four years ago when Damian first came to the family, he didn’t try harder on his relationship with his son. 

And now Damian was suffering because of his mistakes. 

He made his youngest think he was unworthy of being Robin ~~unworthy of being his son~~. He made him think that he wouldn’t move heaven and hell for him. He made him think that he was unloved and unwanted here. 

When in reality, Bruce didn’t deserve him at all. He doesn’t deserve any of his children for how horrible of a father he was (it was his fault that the distance between him and his children grew so much as the years passed by). He knows he made a lot of mistakes over the years when it came to them. He knows he isn’t the best thing he could be for them. 

But he wants to be better. 

He lost Damian once. His son died because of him, because of his feud with his psychotic mother. 

Ever since that terrible night in Crime Alley where he lost his parents at the young age of 8, Bruce Wayne has been afraid of losing anyone close. Unfortunately, he had translated that as keeping people at a distance to protect his heart from being hurt again. 

He couldn’t be any more wrong. 

And he will not lose anymore of his family because of his inaction again. 

.

.

.

Jason ignored the brooding overgrown Bat in the room as he moved around in the kitchen and put a pot of coffee on. He was way too tired for this. The few hours of sleep he managed to get coupled with the giant pain in his neck from sleeping in a chair were certainly a factor in his less than stellar mood. 

A sharp intake made him look up. 

Fuck. 

This morning...was not going to be great. 

_Yeah, no kidding Captain Obvious._ He thought as his eyes glanced at Bruce who was sitting at the dining table and Dick who was standing in the open doorway. The clear hostility in Big bird’s eyes took him back to the times before he died when Dick and Bruce would argue and scream at each other lengths at a time. 

The only difference this time is the shear exhaustion lining Bruce’s limbs (Guess he wasn’t the only one having trouble sleeping) and the dark bags underneath his eyes. He looked worse than he did last night. He had none of the confidence or calm-collectedness of Batman. He just...looked so very tired. 

And Jason couldn’t help but feel just a little bad for him. 

_You got a controlling paranoid emotionally stunted bastard and an overprotective angry momma bear in the same room._

Dick was obviously not pleased to find Bruce in the kitchen/dining area. 

“What are _you_ doing here?” He managed to say through gritted teeth, hands clenched into fists. 

Even if it wasn’t directed at him, Jason winced a bit at the harsh biting tone. 

He should’ve made Bruce go back to the Manor last night (early morning?). But he blames his shitty decision making on the fact he had to deal with Shiva, a knife buried in his fucking thigh (still hurts like a bitch by the way), and a crying Tim all in the same day. 

He drank some orange juice while waiting on the coffee to be done although he could hardly taste it when the heavy tension in the air was so much more tangible. 

The only good thing (and he was looking for the positives in this situation) was that Tim and Damian were still sleeping so they don’t have to witness the impending clusterfuck this was no doubt going to turn out to be. 

Bruce cleared his throat, raising his head to meet Dick’s stare. “I wanted to see how Damian is doing.”

His eldest raised an unamused eyebrow as he crossed his arms. “So now you’re concerned about your son?” 

“I know I have not been the best.”

“Understatement of the fucking century.”

Bruce clenched his fists underneath the table but made no move to stand up. “I am aware of how horrible my behavior towards Damian is.” 

“Oh?” Dick stepped forward. “What happened to make you just figure this out now? You had no trouble thinking he didn’t exist a while ago.” 

And it was like Bruce just deflated, all the tension and fight suddenly disappeared, as he quietly said. “...I saw the video. I know what happened in the warehouse.” 

“You were supposed to be watching him.” 

“I know.” 

“So how the hell did this happen on your watch?” 

Bruce clenched his fists tighter. He looked down, glaring at the table. 

Dick scoffed. “Of course you don’t have an answer. It’s not like you ever gave a damn about him.” 

“Don’t!” Bruce shot his head up to glower at him. “Don’t you ever say that I don’t care about Damian.”

Dick slammed his hands down on the table, his blue eyes darkening like a storm. “You didn’t notice he was missing. You didn’t notice he was hurt. You didn’t have a damn clue anything was wrong until I took him away!” 

“Okay people.” Jason put his hands up as he walked towards them. “There is — _understandably_ — a whole fuck ton of tension in here but keep it the fuck down. The kids are sleeping.” 

“Sorry.” Dick muttered looking away for a brief moment and even Bruce looked chastised. 

And wow. This was such a fucking turn of events. It was Jason who has to play peacemaker between the Big Bats and angry brother who seems he is about a second from pressing the trigger. What the fuck has his life come to? 

He needs coffee. 

“Did you know,” Dick started saying, still in an angry tone but quieter than before. “that Damian doubts your love and that I can’t blame him?”

Bruce flinched. 

And Jason made himself scarce by retreating back into the kitchen. The coffee maker was finally done and he has a cup of the holy goodness that will get him through this. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t leave the room. He had to make sure these two alphas high on testosterone couldn’t do that much damage. 

Not to mention, that he wanted to see Dick ream into Bruce for how horrible he’s been treating the baby bat. Damian deserves so much better. 

“When Damian was tortured in that fucking warehouse, you should’ve been the one who bandaged his wounds and the one who comforted him when he has nightmares every single night.” Dick was close to throwing his hands up in frustration but he made sure not to raise his voice. His little brothers deserve their rest. Instead he crossed his arms as he glared at Bruce. “You’re supposed to be his father.” 

Bruce knew that he hadn't been the best lately and that his children deserve better. But it still hurt to hear the anger and pain in Dick’s voice as he threw all of his flaws back at him. 

He was quiet for a few minutes, thinking over and choosing his next words carefully. He didn’t want to lose this chance to talk to Damian and if he pisses off Dick, there probably won’t be a next time in a long while.

Dick has a horrible temper. Of course, he learned to control it as the years passed by because he didn’t want to scare Tim and Damian. But Bruce never forgot just how scary his eldest was when he lost it. 

And he was close to losing it right now. 

He was tense and high strung. His bright blue eyes were cold and icy. It was obvious to see that he was just waiting for an excuse to jump over the table and punch Bruce again. 

All he could think about was his baby’s tears and anguish. How he wasn’t getting any better. The nightmares were increasing and he could hardly keep any food down. 

_"I just wanted them to be proud of me and love me....I just wanted to be one of them."_

But more than everything, he couldn’t forget the heartbroken look in those young green eyes when he didn’t believe Dick when he said that he was worthy of love. That he was better than any of them. 

“There’s nothing that excuses my actions towards Damian.” Bruce admitted. “I know that I can make up a hundred excuses but that won’t make things better.” 

“Damn right it won’t.” Jason muttered. 

Dick didn’t add anything, just kept quiet and kept glaring at him. 

“All I can say is that I want to do better for him.”

“That’s not good enough.” Dick said in a low tone. “You of all people should know that actions speak louder than words and you haven’t done anything for Damian. When was the last time you interacted with him as Damian and Bruce and not Robin and Batman?”

It was alarming how Bruce had to think long and hard about when was the last time he really interacted with Damian as father and son. More evidence of how bad of a father he was. No wonder his son thought he was unloved and unwanted. Bruce didn’t say or act otherwise to disprove of that notion. 

Dick scoffed. “I fucking knew it. When you came back, I left for Bludhaven so you and Damian can have a better relationship without me there.” 

Bruce almost winced when he remembered the last thing he said to him. 

_“When I came back, you were the one who left Damian behind to go to Bludhaven.”_

“Dick, I didn’t mean—”

“Shut up and let me finish.” He interrupted with a steel tone. “I left Gotham and I thought things between you and Dami would be better. But I was wrong. Because you manage to fuck things up even worse than being dead.” 

“I know. I’m trying to do better. Can’t you see that?” 

The sheer desperation and anguish on Bruce’s face made his cold facade crack just a bit. 

Dick wasn’t trying to play the bad cop just to anger Batman. He wants to give B a chance. He wants Damian to have his dad. But he also doesn’t want his baby to be hurt again if Bruce wasn’t being sincere. If he was just going to care for a little while and then back out like a month later, then what’s the point of being involved in the first place? Because if that’s the case, Damian is better off having an absent father than having his heart played with. Like Talia did to him. 

He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. “...Were you aware that Damian killed those men in the warehouse?” 

He didn’t want Dami to suffer from his (completely justifiable) actions later on. He didn’t want Bruce to think that he was purposely keeping this information from him just in case he didn’t know. 

“...What?” Bruce was shocked. He wasn’t aware of that part. “He did _what_? We don’t kill. He promised me he wouldn’t kill again.” 

_What the hell did he just say?_

Did that bastard even watch the fucking video and how those fuckers hurt and tortured Dami? How they broke his baby? And all he cares about is that Dami broke his fucking no-kill rule. 

**_WHAT THE FUCKING HELL?_ **

Even Jason was shocked still at what Bruce just said. He didn’t notice he crushed the porcelain mug in his hand, the shards falling on the floor and droplets of his blood dripping down. The pain didn’t register as his teal eyes glowed green from Pit rage. 

But Dick beat him to it. 

“I can’t fucking believe you!” The last of Dick’s nerves just snapped as he slammed his hands on the table again. ~~Unfortunately, Dick forgot himself as he screamed at Bruce, forgetting to keep his voice down for the kids.~~ “So fucking what if he killed? He was protecting himself.” 

“I didn’t want him to kill anymore. I raised him better than that.” 

“You didn’t raise him at all. I did! When he first came here, you didn’t even treat him like a son. You treated him like a fucking weapon. And then you died. And I had to step up in your place. I had to be his father.” 

And like always when confronted with anger, Bruce snapped right back. The chair screeched as he abruptly stood up. “I didn’t ask you to do that.” 

“You didn’t ask me to do anything. I chose to do it because he needed someone in his corner. I chose to make him Robin. I taught him. I cared for him. He’s mine.”

“He’s my son.” Bruce growled. He has always been jealous of Dick and Damian’s close relationship. He knows that it was his fault that his and Damian’s relationship wasn’t as close. But he can’t keep the envy from rearing its ugly green head. 

Dick let out a short incredulous laugh. “By your shitty lack of parenting, your death almost drove him to go right back to the damn League with his psychotic bitch of a mother and abusive grandfather. I stepped in to make sure that he didn’t end up in their hands.” 

“I didn’t want him to kill like in the League.” 

Was that all Bruce could focus on? That his son killed to protect himself. Didn't he know that his son also blames himself for what happened and thinks himself as a monster because of his father’s stupid rule?

His glare turned sharper and darker. “It was in self-defense. And even if you think it wasn’t, Damian was justified.” 

“If Damian didn’t kill them, I would’ve.” Jason stepped forward, a burning rage lining his limbs as he stood shoulder to shoulder with Dick, glaring down at Bruce. “I don’t give a fuck about your stupid rule. I only played nice to get you off my back.” 

Bruce looked down and took a deep breath. He looked even more exhausted. “What happened to the dead bodies?” 

“I burnt the warehouse down with them in it.” Even with the heavy mood in the room, Jason smirked (he was damn proud of the giant explosion), daring Bruce to say something, daring him to give him a reason to pull the damn trigger. 

“In the end it doesn’t matter.” Dick said. “He killed. What’s done is done. What does matter now is how you are going to do things Bruce. If you are going to hold those murders over Dami’s head, I want you to walk out the fucking door right now. He doesn’t need your bullshit.” 

“I thought you were going to try to be better.” Jason sneered. “Can’t you just support your _son_ for once?” 

“I can’t condone killing. If he killed once, it’ll be easier to kill later on.” 

And oh. Bruce better not be implying what he thinks he is implying. 

Dick saw red as he snarled. “You think he fucking enjoyed killing them? You think that was what he was fucking thinking about at the time? I’m pretty sure the only thing going through his head was that he wanted the pain to stop.” 

“Dick—” 

“No! You’re not fucking getting it. He doesn’t need Batman on his ass. He needs his father. Can’t you just be Bruce for once?” 

_Can’t you just be his dad who’s happy he’s alive?_

Bruce fell quiet at a loss for words. And that hurt so much more. 

.

_“You didn’t notice he was missing. You didn’t notice he was hurt. You didn’t have a damn clue anything was wrong until I took him away!”_

Tim was startled awake from the sounds of yelling. With a blurred vision, he took in his unfamiliar surroundings before everything from last night crashed on him. 

_Jason’s comforting—_

_Damian’s tears—_

_Dick’s anger—_

He shot up in bed, head hurting but his mind growing clear. He was in Jason’s safehouse. He strained his ears, but couldn’t hear anything more. Alas his curiosity got the better of him so he took in a deep breath and quietly left the warmth and comfort of the bed. 

He peeked outside the room but there was nothing but darkness. He heard sounds coming from the kitchen. 

“I didn’t want him to kill anymore. I raised him better than that.” 

“You didn’t raise him at all. I did!” 

Oh. Bruce was here and Dick was not happy with him from the sound of things. 

But he was too cowardly to confront any of them so he hid away in the darkened hallway, listening to his older brother and father argue about Damian. 

He sat down on the floor, back against the wall, just listening to them and thinking of his own mistakes and flaws. He had his head on his knees, tears falling down. But he didn’t bother wiping them away. 

Dick was right. 

He didn’t do right by Damian. 

He can’t do anything right in this family. 

.

When Damian woke up, he immediately noticed how cold he was. He slowly sat up, wrapping the blanket around himself. Where was Grayson? 

He clutched onto the blanket tightly in his fist as his eyes swept the room. Empty. 

Grayson was always there when he woke up. With a bright smile on his face and warm eyes as he whispered “Good morning, baby.” 

He sat there for a few minutes, waiting. He checked the alarm clock on the bedside table. 8:43am. Usually Todd would be barging in at this time and crowding him and Grayson on the bed before ruffling his hair like he was a toddler and saying “Breakfast’s done. Wanna get out of bed, kiddo?” 

There was no one here. Where were they? Did— 

_His breath hitched._

—Did they finally leave him? 

It was just like his nightmares. He was all by himself. He was shaking, trying to stop the tears from falling. He knew it was going to happen sooner or later. He fucking called it. 

_In death and in life, Damian Al Ghul-Wayne was always going to be alone._

He heard screaming from outside (startling him out of his spiraling thoughts) but he was too consumed with his depressing thoughts and growing numbness to block out the hurt to comprehend the words. 

It sounded like Grayson was screaming. What was going on? 

He got out of bed but shivered in the cold air. He wrapped himself with a small blanket before walking out the door and heading down the hallway. Who was Grayson screaming at? Where was Todd? What was happening? 

He froze when he entered the kitchen. Bruce was standing in the middle of the room. Grayson and Todd both glaring at him. 

But Damian could only focus on the fact that after so many weeks, Bruce was actually here. 

“...Father?” His voice was small and hesitant but it cut through the tension in the room. 

All eyes fell on the baby bat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. To make things clear, Bruce **does** want to be a better dad. But Damian killing people was something that he wasn’t prepared for. And when Dick started screaming and getting angry on Dami’s behalf, Bruce responded back with anger because that’s how his confrontations go (and he was dealing with bouts of jealousy too). And we all know how well Bruce deals with negative emotions: He lashes out. 
> 
> .
> 
> .
> 
> .
> 
> In other news, this is my longest chapter so far (almost 4000 words). Also, sorry for the very long wait. Life is a bitch.


	8. It's not my fault

“Father?” Damian said again as he took a step closer to Bruce. But before he could get any further, Grayson rushed towards him and scooped him (and the blanket wrapped around him) up, holding him close to his chest, cupping the back of his head to nestle against the crook of his neck. 

“Grayson?” He was confused by his brother’s actions. Father was here. That means he cares right? Why won’t Grayson let him see him? 

He hasn’t heard from Father again except for that lone text: _I’m sorry for not treating you better and giving you the care and attention you deserve._ He still doesn’t know how he feels about it. 

He craned his head around to look at Father who was staring at him with unreadable eyes. And oh. He shrunk under the intense gaze and clung tighter to Grayson. He didn’t care about how weak he looked or how much of a coward he was acting like, he didn’t want to face those judging blue eyes. 

Did Father know? 

Did he know that his bastard son broke his no-killing rule? That for all his training and teachings, he was no better than a criminal. That he belongs in jail with all of Batman's other enemies. 

He pressed his face back against the crook of Grayson’s neck, anything to stop seeing just how much Bruce was disgusted with him. 

.

“Get out.” 

And Bruce wanted to argue. He didn’t want to leave ~~he didn’t know if this was the last chance he’ll get~~ ~~.~~ He didn’t mean to lose his cool over the revelation that Damian killed people. He didn’t mean to let his negative emotions blind him. He just wanted to make things right with his youngest. 

But when Damian appeared, he was struck speechless. 

His first thought was how his son just looked too small, too young wrapped up in a baby blue blanket making him appear even smaller. He had none of the arrogance or cockiness he was used to seeing from the kid. Damian was hunched into himself, clutching tightly to the blanket as if it was his security line and taking hesitant unsure steps as he walked into the kitchen. His bright green eyes were filled with confusion and hurt, and there were obvious tear tracks on his face. 

Was that because of him?

He couldn’t move a muscle when Dick picked Damien up, shielding him from his view as if protecting him against his own father. As if Bruce was a threat. 

Was that how his kids saw him? His heart ached at the thought. He didn’t realize he failed that badly as a parent. 

~~He didn’t help matters by lashing out earlier.~~

“Get the hell out of here.” Dick repeated in a low threatening tone. “I will not tell you again.” 

He looked back at Damian (who he failed so many times in the past and keeps failing now) and left without a fight. 

Because he didn’t want to make things worse. He could never handle his children crying. And he just knew that Damian had been crying because of him. Because he was a bad father. Because he didn’t save him in time. Because he couldn’t get over his no-killing rule to see that Damian needed comfort. 

He just keeps fucking things up. Maybe it was best to keep his distance for now. At least then he couldn’t possibly make things worse than they are now. 

He feels that everything has just been going out of control lately. His relationships with his children were being strained. It was clear that he fucked things up with Damian. Jason and Dick wanted nothing to do with him anymore. 

Fuck. How can he fix things now?

_...Can he even fix things?_

.

All the anger Dick felt left when Bruce was out the door. But he still held onto Damian tightly. 

It was an irrational fear he couldn’t shake off. Even though Bruce was gone, he was afraid he would take Dami away from him. He did once. And Dick would be damned if he lets that happen again. 

“Grayson?” With Father gone, Damian felt safe enough to stop hiding in the crook of Grayson’s neck. Grayson still didn’t put him down. ~~And Damian didn’t want to admit how much he liked being in his brother’s arms.~~

Grayson smiled brightly at him. “Hey baby.” 

But Daman picked up on the unease he tried to hide. “What’s going on? Why were you fighting with Father?” 

“We just had a little disagreement that’s all.” 

“You were fighting because of me.” It wasn’t a question. He felt horrible. How much more selfish could he get? He heard the screaming, the anger. Grayson was ruining his good relationship with Father over someone like _him._

He wasn’t worth it. 

“Hey now.” It was as if Grayson could read the negative thoughts running rampant in his mind as he held him tighter. “None of that self-hate. It’s not your fault, okay?”

But it was. 

Todd stepped closer (he forgot the man was still in the room with them) and ruffled his hair. “Yeah, no. You don’t get the blame for this, baby bat. Bruce is just being a pain in the ass like usual.” 

.

Jason tried not to feel hurt when Damian buried his head back in Dick’s neck. He shoved those emotions away (they had no place here) and clapped his hands together (as if nothing was wrong). “Alright. I’m gonna get started on breakfast. Why don’t you two clean up and get dressed, okay?” 

Dick sent him a grateful look for the subject change. But Jason saw the demons and insecurity in hiding those brilliant blue eyes and how his cheerful-put together facade was cracking at the seams. 

_Jason felt his heart clenched in guilt at seeing how Dick was just barely holding on and Damian’s fragile broken state, he vowed to do better. They both suffered enough._

How dare Bruce make their big brother feel like this again. 

_“Robins got to look out for each other, right?”_

He wanted to comfort Dick and say that it wasn’t his fault either. It was Bruce’s and his incapacity to be the emotionally available dad they needed. Dick needed to take his own advice and stop blaming himself for Bruce’s shortcomings. 

There were so many things he wanted to say to him. 

_I know Bruce affected you more than you let on._

_You don’t need to take this burden on alone._

_You can ask me for help._

But he knew that Dick didn’t want to bring this up around Damian who would undoubtedly take Grayson’s emotional state as his own fault and they didn’t want to lose whatever progress they were making that this whole situation was never his fault. 

“Just look after the baby bat, Big Bird. I got things under control here.” He hoped his smirk was enough to soothe him. 

“Thanks, Little Wing.” But judging by how those blue eyes didn’t lighten up and his smile became tighter, it didn’t work at all. And Jason could only watch in silence as Dick carried Damian to their room. 

This family was such a dysfunctional fucked up mess. And he didn’t know what to do. How could he make things better? He wasn’t good with all these emotions and shit. Like fuck, his default is anger. 

But it won’t do him any good to worry about all that shit right now, he has some pancakes to make right now. 

He turned around and headed for the stove. 

And shit. 

He forgot he broke his mug. Well, he has some glass shards to clean up right now instead. He grabbed a dustpan and brushed the pieces onto it before dumping it all in the trash. Then he grabbed a rag to clean up the coffee spills on the tiles. It was a few minutes later that he was satisfied that he had a clean floor again. 

It was then that he noticed that his shirt had coffee stains on it. Well, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get changed himself. And he could check on Tim —was he still sleeping?— while he was at it. 

Only to blink in surprise when he saw the kid curled up in a ball in the hallway. He had his head on his knees and arms covering his body as if protecting himself. 

Shit. Did he hear Bruce and Dick’s fight? 

He crouched down. “Hey, Baby bird.”

Tim looked up and he saw the tears running down his face. Fuck. After last night’s session, he should’ve anticipated that the kid would’ve blamed himself too. Man, this family is something with all the self-blame, huh? 

_“I didn’t know, Jason. I swear I didn’t know he was tortured in the warehouse. I wasn’t— I didn’t mean to hurt him.” He rambled even as the tears never stopped falling._

“Wanna get up from there? I don’t think the floor’s that comfortable.” He made sure his tone was soft and comforting. 

Tim only blinked slowly at him. 

“Come on.” He gently hauled Baby bird on his feet who swayed slightly but managed to stay upright. “Let’s get you washed up and dressed into something else.” 

Tim only nodded slightly. Jason was getting concerned about his mental state but he said nothing ( _Shit he needs Dick’s help. He is completely out of his depth here. What the fuck can he do? He doesn’t want to make things even worse_ ) as the kid robotically went into the bathroom connected to his room and splashed water on his face. 

Luckily, Tim had crashed at this particular safe house a few times in the past so he had some of his spare clothes on hand. He knocked on the door and it was a few seconds before it was opened. Tim still looked dead but a bit better than earlier. 

“Here.” He held out a folded shirt and pants. “Get dressed and come meet me in the kitchen okay? I’m making pancakes for breakfast.” 

Tim still didn’t say anything —his eyes were still blank and unnerving— but nodded before closing the door. It seems that’s the best he’ll get. He’ll take it. 

Fuck. He really wishes Dick could help him with this. But he didn’t want to burden him any more. 

He opened a drawer and grabbed a clean T-shirt, changing into it. When he walked back to the kitchen, he was feeling a bit restless. He could feel the Pit flare up with all this negativity clogging up the air and his anger towards Bruce rising. But he stuffed it down because losing himself to the rage is definitely not going to solve anything but make more trouble for the others. And he can’t do that to them. 

He doesn’t know how Dick and Damian were doing right now, but he didn’t want to bother them. He really needs to get started on breakfast. It was already 9:32. 

He brought out the ingredients and heated the pan before making the batter. It was repetitive and peaceful. Cooking always helped calm down the nerves. 

It was when he poured a good amount of batter onto the pan that he heard a shuffle. He looked up to see Tim sit down at the dining table, still staring blankly ahead. 

“Hey, Baby bird.” He greeted with a smile. “These would be done in just a bit. Want some coffee?”

And wasn’t it concerning when Tim — _caffeine-obsessed, can’t live without coffee it runs through his veins Tim_ — simply shook his head and kept quiet? 

Jason was really starting to hate the blank look in his replacement’s eyes. 

.

Damian was in the bathroom taking a shower. He usually does so after a particularly bad night which was (thank goodness) not as frequent lately. They have been making small progress in that regard. 

_He confessed in a small voice how he could still feel the blood on his hands and body ~~f~~_ ~~ _eel the disgust and horror at what he did itching underneath his skin_ ~~ _and the running hot water helped calm him down._

_Dick and Jason never once complained as they took cold showers._

With Dami in the next room, Dick allowed himself to bury his head in his hands, a small respite to feel that things were not okay right now. He swallowed back the _cries-screams-frustrations_ threatening to break out. He couldn’t afford to break down right now. 

Dami, Timmy, and Jay needed him to be at his best. He was the oldest brother. He needed to be there for them. 

But fuck, it was getting harder to keep himself together. 

.

_“You didn’t notice he was missing. You didn’t notice he was hurt. You didn’t have a damn clue anything was wrong until I took him away!”_

_._

_“...What?” Bruce was shocked. “He did what? We don’t kill. He promised me he wouldn’t kill again.”_

_What the hell did he just say?_

_Did that bastard even watch the fucking video and how those fuckers hurt and tortured Dami? How they broke his baby? And all he cares about is that Dami broke his fucking no-kill rule._

_“You didn’t raise him at all. I did! When he first came here, you didn’t even treat him like a son. You treated him like a fucking weapon. And then you died. And I had to step up in your place. I had to be his father.”_

_._

_“You’re not fucking getting it. He doesn’t need Batman on his ass. He needs his father. Can’t you just be Bruce for once?”_

_Can’t you just be his dad who’s happy he’s alive?_

_Bruce fell quiet at a loss for words. And that hurt so much more._

.

As much as Dick was angry at Bruce, he couldn’t forget the sheer desperation and agony on Bruce’s face as he tried to see his son. 

_“I’m trying to do better. Can’t you see that?”_

And the defeat and resignation in his exhausted body when he left. 

Was it Dick’s fault for blindsiding him with the fact that Damian killed his tormentors when Bruce was just trying to make things right with his son? 

A few tears leaked out his eyes and Dick bit his lip. There was no time for a breakdown. He kept reminding himself. But the full weight of the situation was weighing in on him, a crushing heavy pressure on his chest. 

He knew Damian loved him (even though he doesn’t say it), but he also knew that his baby has always held his father on a high pedestal and Bruce was the one he was desperate to get approval from. 

Was Dick doing the right thing in rejecting Bruce from his own son? Or was Dick just projecting his own selfish desires to keep the boy he’s come to view as his own to himself? 

.

_“You didn’t notice he was missing. You didn’t notice he was hurt. You didn’t have a damn clue anything was wrong until I took him away!”_

Tim couldn’t stop thinking about those words. They played over and over again in his mind, torturing him on how he didn’t know a damn thing. 

Dick was right. He didn’t even notice Damian was hurt in the first place. For as much as he was a genius detective, he couldn’t even see what was going on right in front of him. 

~~He didn’t want to see it.~~

He was a fucked up mess. He felt numb yet there was the feeling of a hundred needles of guilt stabbing him over and over again. He felt a heavy fog weighing on his mind yet he could clearly picture every injustice he did to Damian. 

“Hey,” He heard Jason walk towards him but he didn’t turn his head to look at him, just stared blankly ahead. “You should eat something.”

A plate of pancakes with some eggs and bacon and a cup of orange juice was placed in front of him. But he didn’t move a muscle to pick up a fork and eat. Don’t get him wrong. It looked and smelled good (Jason was an amazing cook). But his stomach was too busy feeling queasy at the thought of eating. 

He didn’t deserve food. He didn’t deserve to eat. 

“Tim?” Jason was still speaking in that soft, gentle tone he uses with victims. He didn’t know how he felt about that. He was clearly not a victim in this case. Not after all he has done and didn’t do. 

He choked back a sob at the thought. 

“Shit.” He heard before Jason moved his chair out and was kneeling in front of him, his teal eyes as gentle as the tone of voice he was using. “It’s okay, Timmy. You’re okay.” 

No it wasn’t. Nothing was okay. It was all his fault. It would never not be his fault that things have come to this. 

If only he was a better brother. If only he saw Damian for the child he really was. If only he cared enough. If only— 

_And it wasn't until he was gone, did Tim notice something was wrong with this picture. Damian's disobedience wasn't anything new but his silence was._

_Maybe someone took the brat down a peg or two._

_Whatever. He shrugged and turned his attention back to the Batcomputer. He had cases to do._

_The demon brat probably deserved it._

How could he think of such a thing? He was such a bad brother. He didn’t deserve Jason’s kindness. 

“I didn’t know.” He said in a hoarse whisper. 

Jason’s eyes turned sad. “I’m guilty of that too.”

Tim shook his head (he didn’t notice he was trembling a little). Jason doesn’t know how much a jerk he was to Damian after _that fucking warehouse incident_ happened. “I made him cry.” 

Jason was quiet for a few seconds. “Did you know I hated myself for causing that scar?” He reached up and lightly touched the faint white line on Tim’s neck. “I hated and blamed myself for trying to kill you multiple times.” 

And oh. 

He froze as he suddenly thought about the parallels between their situations. He never noticed them before. 

“All you can do now is to do better for Damian. You can’t change the past and no amount of self-hate will change that. Stop blaming yourself and do something about it.” 

He bit his lip. Could he still fix things?

“And Tim, it’s not your fault either.” 

And the last of his cold facade broke as tears sprung up in his eyes, losing their blank look. 

“I...want to do right by Damian.” He whispered, his throat dry and scratchy. 

“Start by eating your breakfast, Baby bird.” Jason pushed his chair back in before ruffling Tim’s hair with a kind smile. “Take care of yourself first, alright?” 

He only gave a small nod but he was reaching for the fork so Jason counted it as a win. 

.

Like routine after his customary shower, Damian stared at the mirror and said. “It’s not my fault.” 

After a few seconds, he repeated. “It’s not my fault.” 

Grayson and Todd said it was good to do this. He didn’t see the appeal when he knew the truth but he didn’t want to disappoint them when they have already been doing so much for him. They didn’t say but he knew that they have been cutting back on their patrols and working their own cases just to be there for him. 

Grayson said he was on vacation and Damian knew he can’t keep taking vacation days just to stay with him or he won’t be a police officer anymore. But he also knew that Grayson would rather be laid off than to leave him. He doesn’t know what he wanted. He wanted his brother with him but he knew how much Grayson loved his job and he couldn’t afford to be anymore selfish. 

He said once again. “It’s not my fault.”

His brothers would tell him variations of how being tortured, how he felt he wasn't getting any better, and how they chose to take care of him these past few weeks weren’t his fault. 

_Grayson had a bright gentle smile on his face. “Hey now. None of that self-hate. It’s not your fault, okay?”_

_Todd stepped closer and ruffled his hair. “Yeah, no. You don’t get the blame for this, baby bat. Bruce is just being a pain in the ass like usual.”_

Maybe the memory of Todd’s warm smile and Grayson’s kind eyes earlier was making his heart ache more than usual right now. Maybe after weeks, Grayson and Todd’s honest sincerity was finally reaching him. Or maybe he was just tired of constantly accepting the blame. Maybe he wanted to be selfish for just a little bit more. 

But whatever the reason, he was starting to believe that maybe this wasn’t his fault after all.


	9. Some of us are healing; the rest are breaking

Jason looked up from where he was cooking scrambled eggs for Dick to see that Tim had only eaten a few bites of his own breakfast, a distracted look on his face. He’s been that way for the past several minutes, no doubt thinking hard about what Jason said before. He was always an overthinker like that. 

But Jason left him alone. He only glanced at his younger brother and the barely-eaten plate but didn’t say anything. He’ll take what he can get. It wasn’t the right time to push. One little pep talk won’t erase the massive amount of guilt and self-blame that Tim has no doubt been piling on himself. 

.

Tim knew he had to talk to Damian. He has a vague idea of what he wanted to say but nothing seems right and he didn’t want to mess this up. He didn’t want to fuck things up with Damian again. 

_“I hurt you. I hurt Brown and Pennyworth and Father. I hurt everything around me. You say that I deserve apologies and that I deserve better! Why now? I did nothing to earn that. I’m still the same selfish spoiled demon brat you hate!”_

He had so much to make up for. 

And he knew that he needed to talk to Dick too. He was scared of that upcoming talk more. He bit his lip remembering Dick’s anger — _righteous, justified anger_ — at him. 

_Dick turned around and narrowed his eyes at Tim. “What did you do?”_

_Tim was still sitting on the floor, staring up at his big brother. He was hiccupping and it was hard to speak through his cries-tears-pain. But he forced himself to talk._

_“I d-didn’t know.” He said hoarsely. He needed Dick to know that. “I swear I didn’t know.”_

_Dick was staring at him with ill-disguised anger. His body was shaking, trembling, and Tim couldn’t help but feel scared, cowered under his brother’s fury._

_Dick hated him. He blamed him for what happened to Damian. He blamed him for being a bad brother._

_But he was right to hate and blame him. It was true after all._

_And when Dick abruptly turned around and walked away with Damian, he scrambled to his feet, screaming “Dick!” because he was afraid that this was what snapped their brotherly bond. He was afraid he was losing even more of his family because of his inadequacies again._

_He wanted to run after him —beg him to forgive him for what he did— when Jason held him back and didn’t let him go._

He closed his eyes shut, trying to keep the tears at bay. He had no right to feel sorry for himself. He was the one who brought this on to himself after all. 

.

Staring blankly up at the ceiling, Dick felt like his emotions went through the wringer. 

_“You’re not fucking getting it. He doesn’t need Batman on his ass. He needs his father. Can’t you just be Bruce for once?”_

_Can’t you just be his dad who’s happy he’s alive?_

_Bruce fell quiet at a loss for words. And that hurt so much more._

He felt worn out and numb. 

_"I’m trying to do better. Can’t you see that?”_

He closed his eyes shut. 

Don’t get him wrong. Dick loves Bruce. The man took him in when he didn’t have to and gave him so much. He helped him moved on from his parents’ murder and gave him a family. But as much as he loved Bruce, he loved the tiny feral baby assassin he raised more. 

It was obvious to everyone that Dick loved Dami with all of his heart and that he thought of the baby bat as his own.

He would do anything for Damian. He wanted the best for him. And no matter how hard it hurts and aches, keeping Bruce away was the right choice. He had to believe that he was doing the right thing here. He had to hold on to that. 

When Dami was done with the shower and entered the room, Dick immediately put on a bright convincing smile to show that he’s fine and everything’s alright. 

“Hey, baby. How are you feeling?” It was a testament to how fast he can get his emotions under control that his voice didn’t shake at all. 

He felt his smile turned more genuine when he saw how Damian resembled an adorable wet cat even though he was quiet, eyes stormy, clouding a hundred thoughts, as he looked incredibly too small, too young bundled up in a fuzzy red towel. 

“Dami?” He said softly. 

His baby looked up at him. “...It’s not my fault, Grayson.”

And Dick’s breath hitched before he recovered a beat later, continuing in a soft tone. “No, baby. It never was.” 

“I think,” Damian bit his lip. “I think I’m starting to see that now.” 

And Dick gave him a watery smile, a lightness in his eyes. “That’s great, Dami. That’s really great.” 

.

Jason was done cooking breakfast for Damian and Dick. He has already eaten his. Tim only ate half of his plate and was now playing with the rest of it, moving bits of food around on his plate. His face still had a distracted expression on it. And Jason shot him a concerned look but still didn’t bother him. 

He wiped the kitchen counter with a rag, tidying up a bit. He glanced at the clock. 9:54. And there was still no sign of Dick or Damian. He should go check on them. Make sure they’re alright. Make sure Damian knows he got people in his corner. Make sure Dick knows he’s there for him. 

But before he could, he saw the two in question enter the room. 

And seeing them, he wasn’t exactly sure of what he expected. Maybe Damian was retreating further into his self-imposed shell, setting back all the progress that he and Dick managed to get. Maybe Dick was further piling on the self-blame for Bruce’s shortcomings once again. 

Over the past few weeks, he grew used to the sight of Dick sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. He did it a few times before when Damian was sleeping and he just needed a moment to deal with everything. It said a lot the first few times Big bird didn’t hear Jason and when he did, he immediately put on a beaming smile that didn’t reach his eyes. 

_“Hey.”_

_Dick was startled as he abruptly lifted his head to look at him. He looked even worse than before with his dark eye bags and haunted eyes. “Jason.”_

_Jason could almost be impressed by how his voice didn’t waver one bit if he wasn’t just as sad. Because Dick deserves a moment to not be okay too._

_He sat down next to Dick and pulled his big brother into a hug. Big bird let out a surprised “oomph” but relaxed in the next moment._

_“I’m supposed to be the oldest.”_

_“You don’t have to act around me.”_

_Dick didn’t say anything, but he closed his eyes and rested his head on Jason’s shoulder._

It said a lot later on when Dick stopped putting a front for Jason and let him see him at his weakest. 

So yeah, that was sort of the sight he was expecting to see. 

What he saw was not...that. 

Damian was wearing a plain white t-shirt and black sweatpants. His hair was slightly damp. He couldn’t explain it but there was something different about the baby bat —his movements not as stilted, his face not as blank. And Dick. Dick had a genuine smile on his face, his blue eyes not as haunted and burdened as Jason came to be familiar with as the new norm. 

Dick was happy. 

Not that Jason was complaining. He just wondered what changed between the shitstorm that was Bruce’s appearance to now. 

.

When Tim saw Dick, all his resolve left him. He abruptly stood up, his chair screeched back, drawing everyone’s attention. 

His breath caught in his throat at the sudden attention but he steeled himself. Damian was standing a little bit behind Dick, and Tim stared straight at him. He wants —needs to make things right between them. He owes it to Damian. 

“Is it okay if we can talk later, Damian?” 

Out of his peripheral vision, he could see that Dick wanted to say something (probably opposing that decision, his heart dropped) but Jason shook his head. They shared a look, one he couldn’t decipher. But he felt his heart loosen when Dick pursed his lips and didn’t say anything further. He didn’t know what he would do if Dick rejected him like Bruce and had him thrown out of there too. 

Damian was staring back at him with an indescribable expression before slowly nodding. 

At that, Tim felt relief and smiled. He felt his heart warm and his guilt lessen when Damian sent a small smile back. 

Maybe he didn’t fucked things up beyond repair after all. Maybe he really does have a second chance here. 

.

When Dick first saw Tim, his heart bled for his younger brother. His big brother instincts reared their head.

Tim looked worse than yesterday with darker eye bags and paler complexion. Did he get any sleep at all? His clothes hung on him and he was hunched into himself. 

What was worse was the absolute fear and wariness in those baby blue eyes when they caught sight of Dick. 

His heart clenched at that, remembering what he did. 

_Damian buried his head in the crook of his neck and cried harder, whispering “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Grayson.”_

_Dick saw red. He turned and narrowed his eyes at Tim. “What did you do?”_

_Tim was still sitting on the floor, staring up at his big brother. He was hiccupping as he hoarsely said, “I d-didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know.”_

_Dick was shaking. His vision was still clouded in angry red. He abruptly turned around and headed toward his and Dami’s room._

_“Dick!”_

_He heard Tim screamed, but he didn’t look back._

He should’ve realized that Tim was the same as him. He should’ve known that Tim would’ve also piled on the self-hate and self-blame to an unhealthy degree. 

And with what he did, he didn’t help matters. His brother needed him and he turned him away. 

_“It’s not your fault.”_ He could practically hear Jason say. He has been saying how Dick wasn’t to blame for a lot of things lately. _“You’re human. I’m sure Tim doesn’t hold it against you.”_

But this time he was wrong. Because Tim was blaming himself for what Dick did. 

He was the oldest. He was their big brother. He was supposed to be there for them. 

_He failed again._

“Is it okay if we can talk later, Damian?” 

Dick wanted to say something. They needed to talk too. When Jason caught his eye and shook his head. Guilty, he thought back to Tim’s teary baby blue eyes and heartbroken expression and how he ignored that in favor of Dami’s tears. 

So he stayed quiet. He held his tongue and didn’t say anything. He trusted Jay so he didn’t put up a fuss. He can talk to Tim later. 

He watched silently as Tim headed towards Jason’s bedroom. He watched as his brother moved further away from him. 

.

“Okay, guys.” Jason said, the attention put on him now as he put two plates of food on the table. “I made breakfast or maybe it’s brunch now. Ta-da. Pancakes made exactly how you two like it.” 

“Smells good, Little Wing.” Dick smiled. 

“Obviously. _I_ made it.” 

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly at the rib towards his own abysmal cooking ability as he sat down. He looked up to see Damian still standing, not even moving from his spot. 

His smile disappeared. “Dami?” 

Before he walked towards Todd who was standing near where Grayson was sitting. 

“Damian?” Todd shared a confused look with Grayson. 

Jason was thrown off by the kid wrapping both arms around his midsection in a tight hug before pulling just as quick with a soft “Thanks, Todd.” 

He stared at the baby bat in bewilderment (he had a feeling it wasn’t towards the food) before smiling fondly and ruffling his hair. “Anytime, kiddo.” 

Damian gave him a small smile before sitting down, the chair right next to Grayson, and picking up his fork. 

Jason leaned in close to Dick in explanation who whispered. “He’s starting to believe that this whole thing is not his fault.” 

“That’s great.” He said softly before thinking about Baby bird. He couldn’t forget the blank look in his eyes. “Look, I know that you are extremely overprotective of Dami and you don’t like how Tim treated him in the past. But be nice to him. He isn’t having too good of a time.” 

Dick looked uncertain, as if he wanted to say something to that, but bit his lip and nodded. 

.

Breakfast was good, not that Damian was surprised. Todd was an acceptable cook, having learned from Pennyworth. 

While they ate, Todd and Grayson made conversation. Mostly nonsensical stuff that held no or barely any importance, such as friendly gossip around this neighborhood (or what constitutes as “friendly” in this part of town) and the latest gossip among their superhero friends, like Harper and Anders. 

He didn’t add on but he enjoyed the tranquility of it. It felt nice and peaceful. 

They steered clear of any topics involving the other Bats and Father. 

_He still wasn’t sure what to think of Bruce._

When he finished eating, he left to go to Todd’s bedroom where Drake was no doubt at. A good choice on his part to have their talk since it was a neutral space. 

Damian knows that there is bad blood and too much history between him and the third Robin. He knows that every time they were in a room together, it ended up in a bloodbath and new grudges being made. 

He said yes to Drake’s request because he was so tired of holding onto the hate and anger between them (he was tired of fighting). And he got the feeling that Drake was tired of it too. 

_“I...I’m so sorry. I should’ve tried harder to be a better brother to you.”_

_“Why are you apologizing? You were right. I wasn’t someone you could call family.”_

_“You’re wrong._ _I_ _was the one in the wrong. Not you. You deserve an apology.” Tim averted his eyes to the side as he said quietly. “You deserve better.”_

.

Dick was helping clean up after everyone was done eating. Since Jason cooked, he was doing the dishes while Little Wing wiped the table and swept the floor. 

Jason dumped the rest of Damian’s plate in the trash but he was happy that the kid ate more today. It was progress and it was good. After the hug baby bat gave him and what Dick said earlier, he was happy that Bruce’s sudden appearance hasn’t ruined everything after all. 

He glanced at his brother. “You know, I thought you would’ve punched Bruce when he was here.”

_“...What?” Bruce was shocked. He wasn’t aware of that part. “He did what? We don’t kill. He promised me he wouldn’t kill again.”_

Especially after he had the gall to say that. As if Damian killing his tormentors was the main point and not the fact that he clearly did in self-defense because his family wasn’t there for him. 

Dick was quiet for a few minutes. The sound of running water and sweeping filled the silence. “Believe me. I really wanted to.” 

Jason dumped the dirt in the dustpan in the trash before leaning the broom against the wall. “Why didn’t you? I wouldn’t have stopped you. Hell, I would be cheering for it.” 

Dick let out a short laugh. “I don’t doubt that.” Before sobering up. “I couldn’t because of Damian.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I went to get Dami at the Manor, Bruce pissed me off and I socked him in the jaw.”

“Damn.” Jason whistled in appreciation. “Wish I could’ve been there to see that.” 

Dick sighed as he turned off the water and grabbed a clean rag to wipe the dishes. Jason grabbed another rag to help him. 

“It felt good to punch Bruce. I won’t lie about that.” Dick started saying. “But you should’ve seen Damian’s face. He was shocked and afraid of me.” 

He let out a shaky breath. It hurt to see that expression on his baby’s face directed at him. It’s why he made sure to keep such a tight lid on his anger and negative emotions. Because he never wanted Dami to be scared of him. 

“Jason, you have no idea just how much I wanted to punch Bruce for all the bullshit he said. But I was afraid that if I gave in to that anger, Dami wouldn’t want me to be around. I was afraid I'll lose him.” 

And he can’t lose him. Not again. 

Jason didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “I was wondering why you’ve been showing so much restraint so far. I thought for sure when you came here, I would’ve arrived to a trashed safe house.” 

Dick snorted. “I wouldn’t do that to you. If anything was getting trashed, it would’ve been Bruce’s.” 

“Thanks for the consideration.” He said dryly before his voice grew serious. “But I’m sure that Damian would understand.” 

Dick shook his head. “Even with all the amazing progress he’s been making, he’s in a delicate place right now, and I don’t want to make it worse.”

“Dick, you won’t lose him. You’re never going to lose him.” 

But he didn’t look convinced in the slightest. 

And Jason was afraid to push so he left it alone. 

A comfortable silence settled between them as they wiped the dishes dry and put them away in the cabinets. 

Dick was putting away the last dish when Jason spoke up. “So what I’m hearing is that if Damian wasn’t a few feet down the hall, you would’ve punched Bruce again.” 

Dick looked over at him and smirked. “I would’ve completely wiped the floor with him.” 

But Jason noticed how his hands were shaking slightly. 

.

Okay. Tim was understandably nervous waiting for Damian to show. He paced back and forth on the carpet. Pretty sure he made a permanent indent in them. _Sorry Jason._

When Damian opened the door and entered, Tim felt himself freeze. 

_Broken green eyes haunted him._

And he just blurted out in a rush. “I know that I haven’t been a good brother to you. I know that it’s my fault that we never had a good relationship. And I’m sorry —I’m so sorry for being such an asshole to you all these years. I want to do better —I will be better. Just please give me a chance.” 

Damian didn’t expect this. Drake didn’t owe him an apology. “I never made things easy for you.”

Tim swallowed in guilt. “But I was older. I should’ve known better.”

“The fault was my own. I attacked you in your own house. I tried to kill you multiple times and I almost did. I’m sorry.” 

All he wanted was an apology from Damian but this felt like a hollow victory. 

_He couldn’t get Robin’s shaking too small, too young form out of his mind. He couldn’t stop seeing Damian’s wide fearful-scared-petrified green eyes._

“I should’ve tried harder to be understanding of what you went through.”

Damian shook his head. Drake wasn’t at fault. “I never gave you the chance to.” 

“I let you dissuade me.” 

“Drake—” 

“You don’t have to make excuses. I hurt you. I forgot that as much as you were an assassin, you were just a child too.” 

He knew how harsh the League is. He knew how harsh Talia and Ra’s can be. He knew all that but he didn’t care. He didn’t extend an olive branch after their disastrous first meeting when he should’ve. 

_And in a hoarse voice, Robin (looking far too small, far too young) confessed. "I just wanted them to be proud of me and love me...I just wanted to be one of them."_

_You never will be."_

Tim continued softly. “I’ll be better, I swear.” 

Damian stayed quiet, staring at him with unreadable eyes. 

When he arrived in Gotham to meet Father, he was jealous of Drake. Mother said that the third Robin was a threat to his birthright and he believed her. Drake was Father’s perfect son and soldier. He was everything Father wanted. 

If Father had Drake, there was no need for Damian to be there. He wouldn’t have a place in the family. 

He thought that if he got rid of Drake, then Father would have no choice but to accept him. And soon he will see that he was superior to his predecessor. He thought he was proven right when he was given the Robin mantle. 

He was wrong. He wasn’t worth more than Drake. He wasn’t worth anything. 

But spending time with Todd and Grayson made him think that he was worth something after all. It’s been about a month since the warehouse incident and he was only just starting to believe that now. 

He got a second chance when he didn’t deserve one. Drake —being a better person than he could ever be— deserved a chance too. 

It wasn’t fair for Drake to be that hard on himself when Damian shared the blame equally or maybe more for how damaged their relationship was. 

“I’ll be better too.” 

It was a promise on both of their parts. 

Tim walked closer and tentatively opened his arms. Seeing how Damian didn’t move gave him a burst of courage and he slowly wrapped his little brother in a hug. He felt his heart warm when Damian relaxed against him. 

It wasn’t much but it was a start. And that was all they can ask for right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was the most uncooperative yet. It had so many rewrites and I’m still not sure if I love this one. But I wanted this chapter to be done with because I’m so excited to write the next one.


	10. Slowly moving forward

After his and Drake’s subsequent “make-up” —to put it in crude terms—, Drake insisted that he talk with Grayson next. Damian wasn’t sure how well that would go. 

Even he can’t miss Grayson’s recent protectiveness over him. He doesn’t have to look any further than how Grayson treats Bruce who he loved dearly with scorn and derision. Because of him. Because Bruce never cared for him right according to Grayson —even though it wasn’t his duty to be a dad but a _mentor-teacher-trainer_. Father’s only obligation was to be Batman. And he understood that. 

Grayson ruined his relationship with Father over him. It was all his— 

_It’s not my fault._

He had to keep that in mind. 

Todd insisted that Grayson and Drake be alone while they have their talk. “How about we go outside for some fresh air, baby bat?” 

And so, here they were out in the city, walking around and window shopping. Grayson would be proud they were brotherly bonding. 

.

Dick was surprised when Tim sought him out right after he talked with Dami. He was happy and overjoyed that those two talked things out. They both looked better at the end of their talk. 

But after all the self-blame Tim put himself through because of Dick’s shitty way of handling things with the third Robin, he thought that Tim would be more wary of him. Like before. 

_What was worse was the absolute fear and wariness in those baby blue eyes when they caught sight of Dick._

He thought that Tim would leave as soon as he could to get away from him. He wouldn’t blame his brother. He keeps fucking things up with him. 

Like how he gave Damian Robin without talking to Tim beforehand and how he should’ve explained himself better before Tim snapped at him before joining up with assassins for company. And how he should’ve been more on top of Damian’s attempts to kill/hurt Tim. 

He should’ve done more. He should’ve been better. He was the oldest after all. It was on his shoulders. 

“Hey. Are you feeling any better?” He put on a comforting smile even as his guilt threatened to overwhelm him. 

They were in the living room, sitting on the couch. It was their neutral space. And once again, he felt grateful to Jason for taking Damian out of the apartment. He knew Tim felt bitter over their past interactions, and he wanted him to have a chance to rant and blame him, as he is entitled to —anything to lessen the misplaced guilt and burden on his brother’s shoulders. 

“There have been better days.” Tim said quietly. 

“I’m sorry.” Dick could see that he wanted to interrupt, but he held a hand up. “You don’t have to make excuses. I’m so sorry for brushing you off yesterday. I haven’t been the best brother to you lately.”

Tim shook his head. Why was Dick apologizing for? He was the one in the wrong here. “No. I understand. You were taking care of Damian.” 

“I made you cry.” 

_“Dick!” He heard Tim screamed, but he didn’t look back._

“That wasn’t on you.” 

_‘Oh Timmy.’_ He wanted to scoop his little brother up in a hug. ‘ _You don’t have to make excuses for me. I know it’s my fault.’_

“You needed me, and I ignored you.” His smile turned self-deprecating as he averted his eyes. “Just like I ignored you when Bruce was lost in the time stream.” 

Tim was angry then, sure. Furious even. When Bruce died, everything went to hell. First, he lost his father figure (Jack could never be counted as a parent). And then, everyone thought he was fucking crazy when he said that Bruce wasn’t dead after all. 

Dick has always had his side. He was the one he knew he could always count on. And it hurt —hurt more than any injury he ever had— when Dick didn’t believe him and said that it was just his grief talking. It was salt on the wound when his big brother ripped Robin away from him like it was nothing — _like he was nothing_. 

But even with that, he should’ve been more considerate of just how much Dick had on his plate. He had to be Batman (a burden he never wanted to take on) and had lots of new JL duties to attend to. He had to deal with an out of control Jason (a gun-wielding Batman) and an out of control feral baby assassin. He had to make sure that no one realized that Bruce isn’t dead and that Gotham doesn’t fall. 

And that’s all on top of dealing with his dad’s death. Although now that Tim thinks about it, did Dick even have time to mourn him? 

Fuck. It was a miracle the guy could even sleep. 

And Tim just left him to deal with all those responsibilities by himself. He was the worst brother ever. 

“I should’ve thought about what you were going through too.”

“No.” Dick shook his head. “That was all on me. I didn’t listen to you. And I didn’t try harder to stop all of Damian’s attempts to hurt you.” 

Tim already knew who to blame for that and his brothers weren’t it. “Considering who raised him, you did your best from the beginning.” 

“You left a hostile situation. And I’m proud of the maturity you showed.” Dick needed Tim to know that he wasn’t to blame. _He_ was. 

“I threw a temper tantrum at you and went halfway across the world.” Tim said dryly with a deadpan look. 

“I deserved that. I took Robin from you.”

Tim couldn’t hide the flinch at that. _That_ hurt because it was at that moment that his infallible belief in Dick Grayson started to crack. “...You said it yourself. Damian needed Robin.” 

“Tim.” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dick’s hand twitch as if he was stopping himself from invading his personal space to give him a hug. “I should’ve talked to you before I did that.” 

He looked up at him. “It hurt. I won’t lie about that. You knew what it was like to have Robin taken from you without your consent, and you did that to me.” 

Dick felt his eyes water. He never wanted to repeat Bruce’s mistakes. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know.” And the worst part was that he knew how much Dick was beating himself up over that. But it still hurt to be treated like an afterthought —like all of their brotherly bonding meant nothing in the long run. 

It reminded him too much of Jack and Janet when they would treat like a son the few times they were home before they inevitably up and left him to go to another archaeological dig because their son hadn’t mattered enough for them to stay. 

“That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t still apologize for what I’ve done. I hurt you and I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve to be treated like that.” 

He wiped the few tears that spilled out, trying hard not to break down. Because maybe he did deserve that after what he put Damian through —ignoring him when he needed help and not caring enough to see that something was wrong with him before. 

“Tim?” He looked up and was surprised that Dick sat closer to him, their knees touching, concerning shining his eyes. 

_Why the hell was he like this?_ _He didn’t have a right to cry. He didn’t have a right to feel sorry. Not after he —_

**_Fucking didn’t know a damn thing._ **

_“You didn’t notice he was missing. You didn’t notice he was hurt. You didn’t have a damn clue anything was wrong until I took him away!”_

More tears fell. “I didn’t know Damian was hurt. You have to believe me on that Dick. I know that we don’t get along, but I would never have wished that upon him.” 

And Dick could only shake his head. He never thought Tim would think that. He really did fuck things up between them if Tim thought he would react like that. “I believe you."

Why was it _that_ was the thing that made the first sob tear out of Tim’s throat? Dick’s heart ache from the ever-growing guilt. He knew he had a lot to make up for from now on. 

“So you don’t hate me?” Tim managed to say in a hoarse voice. 

_And when Dick abruptly turned around and walked away with Damian, he scrambled to his feet, screaming “Dick!” because he was afraid that this was what snapped their brotherly bond. He was afraid he was losing even more of his family because of his inadequacies again._

_He wanted to run after him —beg him to forgive him for what he did— when Jason held him back and didn’t let him go._

Dick couldn’t help but wrap him up in a warm, big hug. How could he let things get so bad like this? 

“Never, Baby bird.” He was barely keeping his own tears at bay. “You’re my brother and nothing will change that. I could never hate you. I love you so _so_ much.” 

He heard Tim cry harder, and he hugged him tighter. “It’s not your fault.” _It’s mine._ “It was never your fault.” 

And Tim let himself let go of the many guilts he kept piling on himself. He let himself cry and be comforted, hearing Dick’s whispered assurances soothed a gaping wound in his heart. 

_It’s not my fault._

_It’s not my fault._

_It’s not my fault._

It was easier to say each time. And he could finally let himself believe that. 

.

And as Dick heard Tim cry, he promised to do better. 

_He failed each one of them so much._

He promised to be better. 

.

Damian pulled the hood of his (Todd’s) dark red hoodie over his face. He wasn’t as well known as Bruce Wayne’s son in this part of town since his Father and subsequently Grayson tried their best to keep him out of the news. But he still felt safer and more inconspicuous hiding behind the hoodie. 

_“Come on, Damian.”_ Jason said in League dialect —a mixture of Arabic, Pashto, and other regional languages. _“Darcy’s Candy Shop is just a block away. You’ll love it.”_

It was Grayson’s fault for making him more tolerant of such sugary confections. But that didn’t stop him from walking faster so he could keep up with Todd’s large strides. He gripped the plastic bag in his hands tighter so it won’t have a chance to spill its contents on the busy walkway. 

They had gone to a bookstore earlier, and Todd purchased a few books he had his eye on and bought a sketchbook for him. Damian didn’t have the heart to tell him that he didn’t like art anymore. 

_“We’re here.”_ Todd stood proudly in front of an old and faded brick building but it didn’t look decrepit or needing to be torn down. _“I used to come here when I was younger. The owners are good people.”_

And Damian wanted to go in, wanted to see a part of Todd’s past and know more about the elusive second Robin, but his hands twitched slightly and his heart was beating just a bit faster. 

From what he can see through the frosted windows, the store wasn’t crowded, but there were still several people inside that Damian felt nervous. Yet another thing that changed since the warehouse incident: he couldn’t handle crowds of strangers well. School was fine since he could hide behind his headphones and he knew the familiar faces he saw everyday. But this, he doesn’t think he can handle. 

It seems Todd caught onto his unease. He ruffled his hair. _“It’s okay, baby bat. You can wait here while I go in. I promise I won’t be long.”_

He nodded before Todd gave him his bag to hold while he waited. 

_“Be safe. And don’t forget: stranger danger.”_ The man gave him another hair ruffle before entering the store. 

He felt a small amount of happiness when Todd conversed in League dialect because it was familiar. He grew up with the language after all. As much as he held less than savory feelings towards Grandfather and Mother, they were still a part of who he was. It was his heritage. And he couldn’t help but feel warmth and closeness with the family who shunned him first. 

And maybe Todd caught on to that which was why he spoke it in the first place. He spoke it a few times before at his safehouse. As much as others claim that the second Robin was brash and reckless, he was just as observant and intelligent as the rest of them. 

.

It couldn’t have been more than five minutes since Todd left him alone that trouble found him. Damian was scrolling through his phone when he felt someone roughly bump into him. 

_“Akhi...”_ He couldn’t help but say, instantly looking for his brother only to remember that Todd was in the store. 

A clearly drunk man towered over him with hatred shining in his eyes. He spat out. “Can’t even speak fucking English. Your _kind_ isn’t welcome here.”

He froze in place as he lowered his head to look at the ground. Shame filled his body. 

“Fucking terrorist.” The man continued in a slurred voice. 

No, he’s not. But he didn’t dare refute what the man said. 

_Stay quiet. Don’t cause any trouble._

_Don’t fight back. Don’t use your strength against civilians._

Damian didn’t know why he _carelessly-foolishly-naively_ thought that things would be different now. In the eyes of other people, he hasn’t changed one bit. His accent was still noticeable and his skin was still brown. 

_All they see is someone different from them. And that was enough to earn their scorn and disdain._

“What the hell did you just say?” 

Damian whipped his head to look up at Todd’s ( _did he just get here?_ ) angry glare, his limbs tense and body poised for a fight. 

“What?” The man who uttered such foul words didn’t seem to have an ounce of self-preservation as he stepped right in Todd’s personal space with an ugly sneer. “Am I lying? Bitch” He pointed a finger at Damian who tried to hide behind Todd “doesn’t belong here. Bet he’s illegal. Bet he spread those pretty legs to get—” 

His words were cut off as Todd punched him in the face —blood erupted from his nose— before kneeing him in the stomach. The man collapsed in a pitiful heap. 

.

But Jason wasn’t done with this sad excuse of a human being. Just thinking back to what he was saying about Damian made the Pit rage flare up again. He put a heavy boot on the bastard’s leg making him whine. Good. He can feel pain for what he said about his baby brother— before grabbing the front of his shirt and leaning in closer. 

His voice was low and threatening, just dripping with promises of retribution and vengeance. 

“Say something like that again to my brother and I’ll make Hell seem like Heaven to you. This” he gestured down without taking his eyes off him. “will be fucking nothing when I’m through with you.” 

The man whimpered fearfully and Jason sneered at him — _where was all that bravado from before? Fucking pathetic_ — and unceremoniously dropped him back on the ground. 

He stood back up, making sure to grab the bag of sweets that fell on the ground when he punched the racist piece of shit, and put a protective arm around Damian who leaned in. He steered him away from here. The people out on the streets didn’t pay them or the bastard groaning on the ground any heed. 

It was Gotham after all. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” Jason heard Damian say quietly. 

He snorted. It was his right as a big brother to put fuckers like that in their place. “He had no right to say that about you.” 

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fucking fine. Damian, that’s not okay.” 

“I hear it all the time at school.”

Jason could feel his brain screeching to an abrupt halt. 

_What the fuck?_

.

Damian could just feel the anger radiating from Todd as he spat out. “What the hell do you mean? People say shit like this to you at school too? I thought Gotham Academy had a no-bullying policy.”

Obviously, it doesn’t apply to him. He was Bruce Wayne's bastard son. He wasn’t one of them —what with his foreign background and different skin color. 

“It’s fine. They’re children.” He explained, repeating the words he said to himself. 

“That’s not a fucking excuse.”

Yes it was. Because they were merely children. And he was not. 

Todd was looking at him —angry for him, he realized. “Damian, what do they say?”

_“I heard his mom’s a terrorist.”_

_“No way! What’s_ _he_ _doing in our school then?”_

_“I hope they expel him. People like him are a bunch of bad apples.”_

He averted his eyes and kept quiet. It was nothing worth repeating. 

~~He knew it was true.~~

.

Jason was fucking seething as he and Damian went back to his safehouse. Of course, he kept a lid on his anger so the baby bat doesn’t worry (and to keep the Pit at bay), but that doesn’t negate the fact that he was _fucking pissed_. 

Because how the hell were they supposed to make Damian believe that he was worth fighting for (he was _not_ worth nothing) if the school just threw all that down the drain? Calling him a fucking terrorist, how fucking dare they. 

_Damian merely focused his blank green eyes on him before saying a short and clipped “Todd.”_

_Jason ruffled his hair. “You’re good, kid. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.”_

_And he could get why Dick was in so much pain because seeing those green eyes lose their blankness and just stare at him with such broken incredulity as if what he just said was utter nonsense, was heartbreaking._

His anger lessened slightly when he saw Dick and Tim practically cuddling on the couch, a big gray fuzzy blanket (he had bought them in bulk when he noticed how much Damian likes them) thrown over them, and a movie playing on TV. 

It seems they finally got their shit together. Good. Hopefully, Dick was able to get Baby bird to finally let go of his misplaced self-blame and guilt. 

“Jason?” Dick’s blue eyes were shining with happiness. _And Jason couldn’t even say how much that sight relieved him._ “Did you and Dami have fun shopping?” 

He was smiling as he eyed their numerous bags with bemusement. 

So screw him if he bought stuff that would make the baby bat happy after that racist bastard experience. He got the money to spare. 

“So much fun.” Jason smirked. “But I got to talk to you about something.” He nudged Damian closer to where Dick and Tim were sitting on the couch. “Why don’t you watch some TV with Baby bird?” 

Damian glanced at him. He already knew what Todd wanted to speak with Grayson about. But he didn’t want to focus on what that man said. 

_~~Even if it was true, he didn’t want to hear it.~~ _

He would rather just forget about it all, put it as far away from his mind as he could, like all the other incidents he doesn’t want to think about again. 

_“Demon brat!”_

_“Monster!”_

_“No one wants you!”_

.

When Jason closed his bedroom door behind him (taking great effort to do so quietly and not slamming the damn thing), the smile fell off his face. 

“What’s going on?” Dick didn’t like the thunderous, stormy look Little Wing had. 

Jason took a deep breath. He just knew Big bird is going to blow his fucking top when he learns of it. “We met a racist bastard who had the fucking gall to call Damian a terrorist and a prostitute.” 

_What the hell?_

Dick clenched and unclenched his fists, wanting to punch something, wanting to destroy something. His vision clouded in an angry red. 

“And apparently, Damian’s classmates have been saying racist shit like that to him at school.” Jason gritted his teeth as he crossed his arms. 

**_What the fucking hell?_ **

Dick wanted to kill someone. He would totally throw it down with some 8-year-olds. Because how dare they say that to his baby. His blood boils at the thought because he remembered his own racist experiences. 

_“Fucking gypsy bitch.”_

_“Circus trash.”_

_“Your parents deserved to fall.”_

He thought Gotham Academy was better since he went there and Bruce ranted at the principal for how incompetent they were. He thought Damian wouldn’t have to go through what he did. 

He was wrong to trust that Bruce would be on top of things. He was wrong to put Damian’s wellbeing in his emotionally stunted brick of a father’s hands. 

“He’s not going back there.” Dick will fucking make sure of it. And he can since he hasn’t been taken off as Dami’s legal guardian when Bruce “died”. Luckily, they have 3 months of summer break to figure out his schooling situation. And homeschooling was always an option. 

“No. He’s not.” Jason agreed. “And you know what the worst part is? Damian wouldn’t even defend himself. He said it was easier to keep quiet.” 

Dick’s heart ache and bled for his baby. Damian was being bullied all this time and he never knew. “Does he know what they were saying is wrong?” 

Does his baby know that he could stand up for himself? He knew Bruce constantly lectured them to keep as much of a low profile as civilians as they could, but keeping quiet about being bullied was an entirely different matter. 

It didn’t help when Jason bit his lip, uncertainty in his glowing green eyes. 

“He takes some truth in what they were saying. But I haven’t managed to get him to spill a whole lot on the kids’ exact words. Dick…” Jason had a heartbroken look on his face. “It’s bad enough that he doesn’t want to repeat it to me.” 

Jason could only imagine what shit Damian was forced to hear from his classmates, and it was doing nothing to help him calm down his anger and the Pit-rage. 

.

It’s been about half an hour since Todd and Grayson disappeared to talk. Damian didn’t understand why they needed to talk about what happened for so long. 

He was fine. He wasn’t hurt. So why did it matter? 

_“Can’t even speak fucking English._ _Your kind isn’t welcome here. Fucking terrorist.” _

He bit his lip, blinking away the tears that threatened to appear. It was fine. He was fine. People have a right to their opinions after all. 

He buried himself further into the blanket, cherishing its softness and warmth. Drake was standing near Todd’s DVD cabinet, looking for another movie to put on since the one he and Grayson watched earlier ended. He was simply reading the back covers, but Damian enjoyed the quiet. It was...nice. 

~~Nicer than remembering the unpleasant words of what other people spat out. He just wanted to forget them.~~

He looked up at the darkened hallway again. Todd was most likely telling Grayson about what his classmates said at school. He didn’t need to. They were simply children and they tend to run their mouths. Who can find fault in that? 

~~Because it’s not like they were lying. He was a monster.~~

.

_Knock. Knock._

“I got it.” Tim murmured as he put down a DVD case and went to answer the door. 

He didn’t know what he would do if Bruce came here again. But luckily, the universe didn’t hate him that much. 

Because Bruce wasn’t on the other side of the door. 

Instead, it was a perky blonde wearing a fuzzy sweater in an obnoxious shade of purple (eggplant) and ripped blue jeans. She had on oversized black sunglasses and a sunny smile as she threw up a peace sign. 

“Hey bitches. Miss me?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Steph is back. And I just love writing Jason as a protective brother. 
> 
> .
> 
> I actually thought Dick and Tim’s talk would go differently. I imagined it would be more akin to Bruce and Dick’s talk with Dick being angry at him, but apparently Dick’s self-blame and utter need to accept all the guilt won out.


	11. He was just a kid

“Steph!” Tim exclaimed in surprise and happiness before he hugged her. It’s been way too long. Phone calls and texts can only do so much and he missed her hugs. 

“Hey, Ex-Boyfriend.” She smiled back. She missed him too. “You know, word on the street is that the bats are partying here.” 

She walked past him into Jason’s safehouse. And boy, was she surprised when Babs said that the boys were here. 

Due to the constant 24/7 studying she had to put in for last minute tests and finals (so worth though since she got straight A’s baby), she was a bit behind on all the bat drama. Luckily, Babs got her up to speed. Dick was mad at Bruce for neglecting Damian and took him away where he’s been staying with Jason for the past few weeks. 

Tim had a wry grin on his face as he closed the door behind her. “I wouldn’t exactly say we’re partying here.” 

“Of course not.” She shot him a smirk. “It’s not a party until I show up.” 

“Brown.” 

“Hey, Dames.” She greeted the baby bat who was curled up on the couch in a way too big fuzzy blue blanket. And fuck, her heart melted at the sight. He looks exactly like a baby kitten and she just wanted to coo at him. 

But she does have some self-preservation skills so she didn’t do that. Instead, she darted her hand forward to give his hair a quick ruffle. But was pleasantly surprised to see no knives aimed at her delicate organs or hear any threats of how she should watch her back. 

Huh. 

_“Damian has been acting weird lately.”_

Maybe Tim really was onto something. 

.

When Jason heard the door open, he had to admit that he was expecting it to be Bruce. Bastard has never been good with boundaries or listening to people’s wishes to be left the fuck alone. Luckily, it wasn’t him. But it was another Bat. Although he can’t say he wasn’t happy to see the current Batgirl standing in his living room. 

“Hey, blondie.” He shot her a two-fingered salute.

“Steph.” Dick exclaimed in surprise before rushing up and sweeping her off her feet in a big hug. Her bright laughter was a joy to have around, especially after the recent conversation he had with Jason. “It’s been forever.” 

She was beaming as she was put back down. “Hey, Dick. And wow, we almost have the whole bat gang in here.” 

“Yeah, who needs personal space anyway.” Jason rolled his eyes. His safehouse was getting a bit too crowded for his taste. 

“Aww, but Little Wing,” Dick had a sunny smile on his face. He knew that even as Jason complained, he wouldn’t be kicking anyone out anytime soon. “Sharing is caring.” 

“I hate you.”

“I love you too.” 

“I’m so glad I came back to watch this.” Steph stage-whispered to Tim who was standing right next to her. 

“Don't worry. Dick was just telling me stories about how the big bad Red Hood was a giant softie on the inside.” Baby bird had the gall to say. 

“You have got to share them with me.” 

“Obviously. What kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t?” 

But Jason was happy that Tim no longer looked so dead and blank so he’ll let it slide this time. Even the baby bat had a tiny smile on his face at everyone’s antics so he can’t be that mad. 

_It was nice to have a full house even if he won’t admit that._

He glanced down at his phone. 5:24. Okay, that’s enough of this. 

_He does have a reputation to uphold after all._

“Well, as much fun as this impromptu reunion was, I will have to kindly tell you guys to fuck off. I’m going to make dinner now.” 

“Sweet!” Steph punched a fist in the air. Everyone knows Jason’s cooking is the bomb, even Alfred agrees and he has the strictest of standards when it comes to food. 

“Yeah, yeah. Now shoo.” Jason actually made a shooing motion at them to their bemusement before he headed into the kitchen. 

_He could only imagine what shit Damian was forced to hear from his classmates, and it was doing nothing to help him calm down his anger and the Pit-rage._

He has some stress-cooking to do. 

.

Like with most of their other emotional talks, Damian was sitting on the bed, back against the headboard, in their shared bedroom. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around himself. Grayson was sitting near him, close enough to easily pull him into a hug but far enough to give him space. 

He knew that Grayson wanted to talk about the unpleasant comments and he was not looking forward to it. 

_He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to acknowledge it happened in the first place. He just wanted to forget._

“Damian.” He had enough self-control to stop himself from letting out a small flinch. To be called his full name instead...Grayson was more upset at him than he thought. “Why didn’t you tell me people were saying mean things like that to you?” 

_I didn’t want you to look down at me._

_I know they weren’t lying._

He wanted to keep quiet. If he kept his mouth shut, Grayson would just give up and talk about something else. He didn’t want this conversation to continue because that meant remembering the vile words people spat at him and it wasn’t worth it. 

Who was he kidding? Grayson could out-stubborn him. 

He looked down, tracing an imaginary pattern in the blue striped blanket with his finger. “It was fine. They were simply words. I did not think it was worth bringing up when they caused me no harm.” 

There. That was the longest he spoke at once nowadays. Surely Grayson would just leave it at that. 

But when he dared take a risk glancing up, he saw a heartbroken expression on his brother’s face and a sadness in those blue eyes that made him look away again. 

“Dami.” Grayson sounded like he was about to cry. “Just because they were words doesn’t mean they can’t hurt you.” 

“I was not harmed.” He insisted. 

It was fine. Everything was just ~~fine~~. 

But there was a tiny part of him that wanted to tattle like a mere toddler, wanted to whine and cry like a baby about what those people said. That little part of him he tried to snuff out wanted his father figure to protect him and make those cruel words disappear forever. 

But he bit his lip. He couldn’t afford to be that selfish. Not after everything Grayson has already sacrificed for him, taking care of him for the past month. He can’t keep taking and taking and taking Grayson’s goodwill. He can’t be that self-centered. 

He could hear Grayson move closer to him and feel him rubbing circles on the back of his hands, but he didn’t dare look up. Because seeing those kind eyes might make everything he’s been trying to keep hidden spill out. 

“Injuries are not only physical.” His voice was so soothing and gentle that Damian had to bite his lip to keep the tears from falling. “And I wished that you told me before because you shouldn’t have had to go through that.” 

“They’re children.” 

“That doesn’t make it okay. Being a child doesn’t excuse them.” 

_Yes, it does. No one finds fault whenever snot-nosed brats run their mouth because they were simply kids. So why isn’t it the same here?_

Grayson continued. “And from what Jason told me, not everyone was a kid.”

_A clearly drunk man towered over him with hatred shining in his eyes._

Damian closed his eyes. “They have a right to speak their minds.” 

_“That’s Demon Wayne.”_

_“Should you even call him that? I heard the Waynes were ruthless when it comes to bullying.”_

_“Please. He isn’t a Wayne. Even his own brothers call him demon.”_

_“Yeah. Even the Waynes despise him.”_

_“He’s a bastard child. His mom didn’t even want him.”_

_“I still can’t believe Bruce Wayne took him in.”_

“Please look at me, Dami.” 

He couldn’t refuse, not when Grayson pleaded like that. He shyly looked up at those bright blue eyes —that was just so full of love for him, he didn’t understand. What made him so worthy of that much love? What did he do to deserve Grayson? 

“What they said was not right. It was hateful, racist bigotry —unwanted and unnecessary.” His voice was unwavering and firm. “Making fun of your skin and your ethnicity was uncalled for. Calling you a terrorist was crossing the line. What they said was wrong and they had no right to talk to you like that. ” 

And Damian had a lump in his throat. “You can’t stop everyone.” 

“No, but I can be there for you and shower you in so much love and affection that those bad words will just be a distant memory.” 

His hands were shaking. His walls were crumbling. 

“I didn’t want to burden you any further.” 

“You were not and will never be a burden to me.” Grayson ran a hand through his hair and he couldn’t help but lean in closer to his touch. 

Even as he whispered in a pathetic voice. “I’m a monster.” 

“You’re a hero.” Grayson corrected. 

“I haven’t been Robin in a long time. I can’t—”

“That doesn’t make you any less of a hero or a good person.”

He couldn’t stop the tears from falling when Grayson said that. He tried to cover his mouth with his hand but he couldn’t stop the sobs from breaking out. And Grayson just hugged him tightly, resting his head on top of his baby’s as he whispered assurances over and over again. 

Damian couldn’t help but press himself as close as he could to Grayson’s side, soaking in the warmth and comfort of his older brother — _his Baba_ —’s presence. 

.

“You were right, you know?” Tim was lying down on Jason’s bed, hands under his head, as he stared up at the ceiling. 

“Right about what?” Steph was sitting next to him (and wow, this mattress was super soft and comfy), her back against the headboard. 

She was looking around the big bad Red Hood’s bedroom with a curious look. She hasn’t been here before. She wouldn’t snoop (she does have manners), but anything that was lying around was fair game. 

There were a grand total of 11 books in a stack on the mahogany desk. Beside it, was a couple of pens, a notebook, and a sleek black laptop. Above the desk were three framed pictures. 

One of little!Jason and Alfred. A recent picture of Jason, Dick, and Damian together. And finally, an old and faded picture of a woman she recognized as his mom, Catherine. 

The rest of the room was bare in contrast yet still neat and tidy. Not that it was a surprise Jason was always such a stickler for cleanliness. 

“Damian.” Tim had a somber expression on his face. “He really is just a kid, like you said before.” 

She looked down at him, not liking the sudden melancholy in his voice. 

“We actually talked. Civilly, can you believe that?” He continued, not taking his eyes off of the ceiling. “He said sorry for trying to kill me so many times. I said sorry for being such a shitty brother in the first place. And I...it felt good to put everything behind us and start fresh. A blank slate if you will.” 

Tim was tired of the hostility between him and his younger brother. He was tired of the constant aggressiveness and bitterness between them. So he was happy that he and Damian are starting over and hopefully building a better relationship that can actually rely on trust from now on. 

“Your words were really a wake-up call.” Callous words but blunt has also been Steph’s MO. 

Watching that disgusted video and hearing Robin’s cries made him realize how stuck in the past he was. How much he was holding onto that hostility between them. Coupled with Steph’s words, he realized how much he wanted to move on from that. 

He realizes that he can let go of everything. He can forgive the demon brat and allow himself this. He can give Damian a chance and he felt better doing so. 

She grimaced slightly, remembering that conversation. “I was also in the wrong for that. Don’t worry, Babs reamed me a new one when I talked to her.”

She knew that Dami tried to stab Tim in the early months when he first came here and threw insults around like they were cheap candy. 

Yet all she could think about when Tim ranted about Damian is the kid who jumped in a bouncy castle with her, the kid who smiled and actually had fun even if he vehemently denies it now. 

She was thinking about the kid who actually let her help him with a stray cat who hissed at him and ran away with a bloody leg. How both Robin and Batgirl had flown all over town trying to find it and make sure it wasn’t hurt. How they both had scratches along their arms, but they were smiling at each other when they finally bandaged up the cat and Damian reluctantly said _“Not bad for a blonde, Batgirl.”_

All she could think about was how the kid just deserved a chance. 

Tim looked up at her. “What are you talking about?” 

“I’m so sorry for trying to push you to forgive Damian just because he was a kid.” 

_“Okay, enough of this.” She let out a suffering sigh before railing on him. “Boo hoo. Save the fucking pity party, Tim. He’s a fucking kid. You need to grow the hell up and see past his demon exterior.”_

“You were right to say those things.”

She shook her head. “No one should tell you when you should forgive or when you’re ready to move on.” 

She hated Bruce for a long time because of how shittily he treated her when she was Spoiler and Robin. How he constantly tried to degrade her and make her give up the cape. But she proved him wrong. 

She could imagine being downright pissed if someone just tells her to suck it up and move on from that trauma. 

Unfortunately, it took a talk with Babs to get that through her head. The only one of them who had the guts to get a therapist and actually deal with things in a healthy emotional manner. 

She pulled her knees to her chest, head resting on top as she wrapped her arms around herself. “I didn’t realize I made it sound like that until Babs told me.” 

And she was beyond horrified that she treated Tim exactly like that. She would’ve called him right then and there but felt this was better done in person. 

Her bright blue eyes grew wet as she tried to hold back from crying. “I’m so sorry, Tim. I didn’t mean to say it like that.” 

Tim immediately sat up and hugged her. “It’s okay. I forgive you.” 

It took some time for her to not feel like she was going to burst into tears any second. But Tim didn’t mind and kept holding her. Until she pulled away and pulled her legs into a criss cross instead. 

She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and took a deep breath to regain her composure before smiling brightly at her best friend (her smile was a little watery but neither of them mentioned it). “I’m glad that you and Damian worked things out. I’m so proud of you, Timmy. What changed your mind about the baby demon?” 

“Seeing him being tortured in that warehouse.” 

“What?!” 

He was taken aback by the shocked and enraged look on her face. 

“Damian was tortured? When the fuck did this happen?” This was the first time she was hearing of it, and Babs sure as hell wouldn’t keep this kind of thing from her. “That’s not important. Is he okay? Wait. We just saw him in the living room. Sure, he was wrapped up in a blanket, but I didn’t think he was hurt.” 

_‘Shit.’_ Tim thought. She didn’t know. 

“From what Jason told me, he’s mostly healed now.”

“Mostly healed?” She had a quizzical look on her face before she spoke in a low voice. “Tim, when was Damian tortured?” 

“A month ago.”

Her blood froze as the world skidded to a halt around her. What the fuck?

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” She forgone the vigilante life, but she thought she was still a part of the family to be included in news like this. Was she wrong all along? 

“I only found out yesterday.” And wow, he couldn’t believe only a day has passed since he found the video. “So did Bruce.”

She had an incredulous expression on her face. “The World’s Greatest Detective didn’t even know his own son was tortured?” 

“Kidnapped and tortured to be exact.” He looked down at the dark red blankets. “And no. By the timing, I’m guessing that’s why Dick took Damian away from the Manor. No one noticed a single thing and—”

“You guys didn’t know?” She interrupted. 

Tim felt his earlier guilt coming back to haunt him. “No. Robin had to save himself because none of us knew a damn thing.” 

“Tim.” She reached over and covered his hand with hers. 

“There’s a video showing his torture.” He shut his eyes, trying to stop the tears from falling. “And Steph. It’s fucking horrible.” 

“I want to see it.” She wanted to know what he’s been through. She wanted to know how badly she failed him. 

He glanced up at her. “Are you sure? It’s not pretty.” 

“I’m sure.” 

“Okay.” Tim got off the bed and went to get Jason’s laptop. 

.

.

.

Steph prepared herself for a lot of things, but it was so much worse than she thought. 

_In a hoarse voice, Robin confessed. "I just wanted them to be proud of me and love me....I just wanted to be one of them."_

_"You never will be."_

_And the littlest bird broke down sobbing once again._

Hearing Damian’s tortured cries was what made her burst into tears. Her heart bleeding for this kid who managed to crawl into her heart with his prickly attitude and archaic language. 

“Why didn’t anyone answer his distress signal?” 

“I—I don’t know.” When he found out what happened, all he could about was how badly he failed Damian. The guilt and self-blame overwhelmed him that he didn’t even think to find out who did this. “I failed him.” 

“Oh, Tim.” Steph whispered when she saw, brushing away his tears (he didn’t know escape) even as hers continuously fell. Before pulling him in a hug. She knew her boy wonder has always been big on blaming everything, even things out of his control, on himself. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.” 

And he clutched onto her as if she was his lifeline. “I wasn’t there for him before.” 

“But you’re here now.” She ran a hand through his hair. “We’re both here for him now.” 

“He shouldn’t have had to go through that in the first place.” He buried his head in the crook of her neck, giving up on stopping the tears. It wasn’t worth the effort now. “We’re supposed to be heroes and we didn’t even know.” 

What could she say to that? Being an utter hypocrite, she felt the same guilt and self-blame (Damian’s cries at the forefront of her mind). So she said nothing and just hugged Tim tighter, resting her head on top of his. 

It was silent for a few minutes before Steph broke it in a quiet voice. “You know, there’s a lot of things that we shouldn’t have had to go through.” 

“We chose this life though.” Tim said just as quietly. He had stopped crying, but he didn’t pull away from her comfort. 

It was silent again. They were both lost in their thoughts before she broke it again. 

“Wow, we are really fucked up, huh?” 

“Yeah, we really are.” 

_The Bats were just one big dysfunctional mess of broken parts because in the end, they were all just kids who were forced to grow up way too fast._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say I love Tim and Steph’s interactions in the comics? They are utterly adorable and cute together. If it wasn’t clear before, in this fic they had a mutual break up and their relationship is completely platonic now.
> 
> .
> 
> In other news, when I first started writing this fic, I did not expect it to grow this big. I thought I was just going to write Dick and Damian bonding, but apparently, the rest of the Batfamily came in and smashed that plan to pieces (looking at you Jason). 
> 
> Due to how this story is quickly turning into a fucking behemoth, expect monthly updates but no guarantees. School has started for me and I’m not sure how much free time I’ll have.


	12. I'm here now

Jason decided to make beef patties to make burgers. He made Damian’s tofu burgers separately in another pan. It was all easy and mind-numbing work, his movements mechanical and stiff. 

He just couldn’t stop the rampant thoughts running in his head. 

If he hadn’t gone to the warehouse on a whim and found the video, would they ever even know? Or would Damian just keep silent, never telling anyone, and further spiral into a depression slump —just thinking that no one cared about him and being proven right when their family of fucking world’s best detectives didn’t notice a damn thing was wrong. 

Would the Bats just think nothing of his quiet odd behavior and just put it down as him being in one of his moods? Would they just end up ignoring his suffering? 

~~Would they end up with another dead Robin in the end?~~

For fuck’s sake, Damian was just a kid. He was just 14 (the same age Jason was when he died, he thought morbidly). 

Jason was angry at the League, at the Bats, at himself. How badly did Damian think of them that he couldn’t come to them for help? That he didn’t think they would care? 

He knew better than anyone how hard it is to make recovery. 

Everyone knew he died and came back wrong. High off the Pit-rage and Talia’s toxic brainwashing, he attacked the Bats, wanting them to pay for replacing him as if he meant nothing. 

When the Pit loosened its hold over him and he began to think clearly since his death, he decided that Gotham wasn’t good for him right now. The constant proximity to his worst nightmares were worsening his mental state. He had to leave, had to get out of there. 

_The Bats —the constant reminder he wasn’t enough for them— weren’t helping either._

So he packed up his bags and left. He formed the Outlaws with Roy and Kori. It felt good repeatedly beating crime in the face and blowing shit up. 

What everyone did not know was that he had his extremely low points too. He had times when he just felt like that no matter what he does, it won’t change the situation. He wasn’t enough for anyone. He was never good enough. The Bats still hated him. He still has blood on his hands. He was a criminal who deserved to be locked up in prison. 

So what was the point in trying to be better when nothing ever changes? He wasn’t doing good. He was always falling short. 

He had a lot of times where he wondered why he was still here? Times where he thought what was even the point in living anymore? The grave was better. He was just a dead man who wasn’t worth anything. No one cared about _him_ —only the face he was wearing. 

He was ashamed to admit that there were a few times when he just gave up and picked up the knife. Thin precise lines littered his thighs. 

Roy was the one who discovered it and took the blade away. He was the one who held him while he was sobbing, whispering assurances in his ear all the while. And who made him talk to someone (he didn’t want to but he couldn’t stand anymore of Roy’s desperate, heartbroken pleas and cries) and get medication. It was Kori who gave him a big warm hug and put together a small celebration when he was 3 months clean. He’s pretty sure those two are the only ones who actually know how bad his depression got. 

It was them who gave him the support to come back to Gotham and pushed him to start mending things with the other Bats. 

And things were better now. 

He can work with Bruce —well, begrudgingly, but he can do it. He reconciled with Alfie and have weekly tea with him. He mostly hangs out with Tim and the girls. He teams up with Dick and Damian from time to time. He banter and bicker with them on occasion and patrols are a whole lot more fun with backup. 

It wasn’t perfect but it was okay for him. 

So why didn’t he try harder to be there for Damian? He knew how shitty the League was. He knew how shitty Bruce can be. 

Dick asked him before how he was handling things with Dami. Remembering Big bird’s tears and breakdowns he hid behind closed doors, what else could he do but smile and lie, saying he was doing okay. 

He couldn’t burden him further. And he wasn’t exactly lying. He was okay. It’s just that this whole thing affected him more than he wanted to say. 

He knows he told Dick and Tim to stop it with the self-blame. 

_It’s not your fault._

He knows that he can’t change the past and he can only move on from here on out. He knows all that. 

It’s just…

Sometimes, it’s just hard to listen to that. It’s hard not to blame yourself when broken green eyes haunt you and how you were not enough to save him from the pain and hurt. 

~~Sometimes, it gets harder to ignore the urge to pick up a knife and punish himself for how he failed yet another child.~~

.

It took a while for their tears to dry (but the guilt didn’t lessen). They ended up laying on their backs on the bed. Steph curled up in Tim’s side, her head resting on his chest, his arm wrapped around her. 

They loved each other, no doubt about that, but they could never make it work —not with the constant secrecy and distrust between them. They were better off as friends, best friends even and they couldn’t be happier. Because it meant they didn’t lose each other after the disastrous relationship they had. 

“You know that even if I’m no longer a vigilante, if you guys call me for anything, I’ll answer.” She had to know that they knew that. Even if she was a full-time civilian now, she’ll put on the cape if they need help. “You guys are my family.” 

He smiled at her. “I know. We love you too.”

“Oh I know Boy wonder. You bat boys wouldn’t have survived this long without us girls.” 

“And Alfred.” He added. 

“Alfred’s a fucking god.” 

They shared a laugh and it was quiet for a few minutes as they just enjoyed each other’s presence. Steph ended up breaking it once again, her voice somber. 

“Do you think Jason and Dick know who hurt Damian?” 

“I’m pretty sure they do.” 

Dick was always protective of his siblings. And Jason hated fuckers who hurt kids like that. 

“Do you think we can make it up to Damian?” She had a soft spot for him. 

“It’s like you said. We’re here for him now.” 

.

It wasn’t long before Jason yelled out that it was dinner time. So Steph and Tim untangled themselves from each other and got out of bed, depression and negativity can take a back seat in the face of Jay’s glorious cooking. 

When they entered the dining room, she couldn’t help but feel the tears spring up again at how Damian looked far too small, too young and her heart bled for what he had to go through. And how she never had a single clue it happened in the first place. 

_Damian’s cries were at the forefront of her mind._

She couldn’t be blamed when she rushed forward and gave him a huge hug. She could feel eyes on her and saw Dick’s sad understanding smile out of the corner of her eye. 

When she pulled away, she wiped her eyes and fixed the baby bat with a solemn look. 

“Just say the word and I’ll kick anybody’s ass for you.” She promised seriously. “I’ll even kick B’s ass if you want and you know I’ll win.” 

_She had a mean right hook and her brick-throwing skills were just top-notch (Tim can attest to that). She never said she wasn’t above fighting dirty. She was a Narrows kid after all. Besides, she had a feeling she’ll have the rest of the Bats’ support. Cass would 100% throw hands with her. Babs and Tim would totally sabotage his chances of winning. Dick was always protective of Dami. And Jason loved an excuse to punch Bruce in the face._

Damian let out a huff of laughter when she said that before looking surprised at himself. Steph didn’t notice anything wrong and laughed too (loud and full of joy), happy that she got the baby bat to smile. 

But Dick’s head shot up when he heard the soft sound. Only Jason caught the action, sending him a quizzical look. But he didn’t say anything. He couldn’t say anything. 

A lump appeared in his throat as tears sprang up in his eyes but he blinked them back, a huge smile forming on his face. He didn’t care that Jay was looking at him weird now (but when he explained later, he’ll understand). 

He just feels so damn happy because that was the first time in a month he heard his baby laugh. 

And it was a beautiful sound. 

.

.

.

Dinner was delicious. The burgers and fries were amazing. Say what you want about the gun-wielding zombie full of rage and Daddy issues, he can cook a mean patty. 

Steph sighed in happiness as she sunk back in her chair, patting her full stomach in contentment. “You know, if the whole angsty lone wolf anti-hero thing isn’t working out, you should definitely open a restaurant.” 

_This girl._ He shot her an unimpressed look. “You only got the anti-hero part right, Blondie.” 

She laughed. “Seriously? You’re like the dictionary definition of angsty lone wolf. Your Daddy issues can fill up the BatComputer, all of Babs’ files, and the Fortress of Solitude and then some.” 

“Now, you’re just exaggerating. You have just as many issues as I do.” 

“Well, who was the one with eight heads in a duffel bag to prove to Batman he was right?” 

“I was making a statement.” 

“Yeah. That you should’ve taken up a theatre gig instead.” 

Jason glared at her. 

_But at this stage in life, she was immune to Bat-glares. It just doesn’t have the same effect as they used to._

She smiled prettily right back at him. 

“You know, she’s kind of right.” Tim couldn’t stop smiling at her antics. Steph was a fucking riot. God, did he miss her. He forgot how much fun she was. 

“Kind of right, Ex-boyfriend?” She said with a dramatic aghast expression. “I’m completely right. Jason would’ve totally killed it on stage.” 

“Did you guys know that Jay had been in a couple of school plays when he was younger?” Dick smiled, his blue eyes twinkling in delight. After everything that happened, this was a nice change of pace. If only there were more moments like this in the future. “And he did kill it.” 

Steph and Tim bursted out laughing as Jason shot him a betrayed look. 

“Really?” She was giddy on the potential blackmail. “Please tell me you have pictures or videos.” 

“Of course I do.” He said with a smirk. 

“You know, I can believe it.” Tim said once he caught his breath. “Jay was such a nerd and goody-two shoes student back then.” 

“No way.” She gasped in delight. 

His smile grew wider before saying. “Way.” 

Jason was just looking around at everyone in disbelief. This is the thanks he gets for cooking dinner and being the only sane (and emotionally stable) person here. 

He was just happy that no one was bursting into tears or self-blame right now.

“I hate this fucking family.” But his voice lacked the heat and venom he would’ve liked in it. Fuck. He was growing soft. 

“You gotta suck it up, bro.” She winked and shot him a finger gun. “Even death wasn’t enough to get you out of this crazy horde.”

“I hate every single one of you. Except for Damian. You’re still my favorite.”

Dami had a tiny little smile on his face and a slight redness on his cheeks when Jason said that so casually, ducking his head to look down at his plate. The sight made Dick’s heart warm, and he internally cooed at his baby. 

Before a thought occurred to him when he looked out the window and saw how the sun had fallen already. Turning his attention back to Steph, he asked. “So are you going to be leaving before it gets too dark?” 

She looked at him and smiled. “Nah. I’m planning on bunking here.” 

_She didn’t say how she felt her stomach churn and twist at the thought of leaving Damian alone right after that horrible video._

“Really? Are you sleeping on the couch then?”

“What? No. I have class. I’m taking Jason’s bed. He can have the couch.” She threw a smirk at him. 

Jason stared at her, unimpressed once again. At this rate, he’s going to have to buy an actual house to house all these strays. Okay yes, he does have the money for it. But it was the principle of the matter. 

“It’ll be like a giant sleepover.” Tim remarked. 

“OMG, Ex-Boyfriend!” Steph suddenly sat up straight in her chair, visibly shaking with excitement, a beaming smile on her face. “We can all camp out in the living room. We’ll make a fort and everything. It’ll be amazing.” 

Unfortunately for Jason and the state of his clean and tidy safehouse, Dick was immediately on board with the idea. Tim brightened up at the thought. And even Damian didn’t look entirely opposed. 

Fuck it. He really was growing soft. 

“Fine.” He said begrudgingly (not really but he still had a reputation) before he got a sly look in his eyes. “But you’re doing the dishes, Blondie.”

“Oh come on!” She pouted. 

It made everyone burst out laughing this time. Jason shot her a smirk. And even Damian let out an adorable huff of laughter which Dick will never grow tired of hearing. 

The light and relaxed atmosphere continued as Steph mock-protested her fate of cleaning up. She knew it was fair but she won’t admit that. She’s not going to back down from the big bad Red Hood. 

And besides, it got the boys to loosen up and forget about how they were just kids who should’ve never gone through so much trauma and endured so much pain. 

.

.

.

After 23 minutes (and yes, she did keep track of the time) of washing dishes and putting them away, Steph was finally done with her cruel and unusual punishment. 

She even let out a whoop of joy when she put away the last plate, free from Jason’s no good sense of humor. And entered the living room with a dramatic “Miss me, bitches?” 

Only to fall flat at the sight of Damian being the only occupant in the room. A few blankets and pillows laid about in a chaotic mess and there were no signs of a fort being made. 

“Where are the others? I thought you guys were setting up the fort.” She did not bust her ass cleaning up by herself only to do even more work (even if setting up a blanket fort was way more fun than dishes but it was the principle of the matter). 

“They went to get more things.” Apparently, this small horde was not enough and a disgrace. Todd was surprisingly the most outspoken on that considering how much he did not want to do such a childish endeavor in the first place. 

“It’s fine. Who needs those losers anyway?” Tim was no doubt using this as an opportunity to talk to Jason and Dick without Damian overhearing —most likely about who the hell dared to hurt their baby bat so she can’t fault them too much. “Batgirl and Robin are enough for this job.” 

She shot him a winning smile and felt her heart soar when he sent back a tiny little smile of his own. She grabbed a blanket and started arranging it to her liking. “So, Dames, got any cool artwork to bedazzle me with?” 

His face turned blank before he quietly said. “I don’t do art anymore.” 

And Steph can literally see him closing in on himself. Shit. Was that like a trigger or something? How the fuck does she keeps messing up?

But since when was art a trigger? He loved drawing. And he was so good at it too. She remembered how he would show off his sketches and paintings with pride and joy. It was one of the few times he truly acted like the child he tried to hide behind a mature persona. 

How badly was he hurt? How far did the trauma he suffered go?

.

First Todd. Now Brown. 

Why does him doing art matter to them? It was a useless hobby, just mind-numbing work to pass the time. 

~~He ignored the voice in his head that said he was simply making excuses to compensate for his own faults that he couldn’t enjoy art anymore.~~

Damian’s thoughts were interrupted when he heard his phone vibrate and when he looked at the screen, it was a series of texts from Jon. 

_Hey!!!!!_

_I know u said ur not injured, but wats going on?_

_We haven’t hung out in 4ever!!!_

_I miss u_

_U rlly ok???? I can fly over rlly rlly fast_

He simply sent back an “I’m fine” and put his phone away. 

It’s been like this for the past few weeks. He was lucky that Jon took his replies at face value and didn’t end up coming to Gotham anyway. But he didn’t know how long that good luck would last. 

But what else could he say? What else could he do? 

~~Jon didn’t need to know what a failure he was at being a hero.~~

Jon didn’t need to be burdened by what happened to him. He was just a child — _pure-innocent-good_. 

~~Call him a coward. He was one. He already lost Bruce. He didn’t want to lose Jon too.~~

.

Tim can’t say that he was really surprised to hear that the League was behind everything. Ra’s and Talia were always a pain in the ass. But he was happy to say that he dealt a lot of damage to them when Bruce was lost in the time stream. Blowing up Ra’s bases was always cathartic and a pleasure. They couldn’t operate normally for a long while. But maybe he should've made it so they could never recover or operate ever again. 

_So they can never touch a single hair on his little brother’s head ever again._

“I don’t get it.” He said. “Why are they after him now?”

Not to mention, this wasn’t their usual MO. 

Jason crossed his arms over his chest, a scowl on his face. “Ra’s dying. The Pits aren’t working as they’re supposed to. So they want to break Damian and reprogram him again so Ra’s can take over his body.” 

They don’t have time to clone him (not to mention, that route is less predictable on achieving an outcome that performs to their perfect standards) 

And Damian already has what Ra’s wants. The kid was of his blood and has League training, as well as being taught by both Batman and Nightwing. Not to mention that since he was the son of the Demon’s Daughter and the Dark Knight, his bloodline is impeccable and desirable. So it was only a matter of breaking him down until he’s nothing more than a blank slate for them to do whatever they want with him. 

It made Jason almost lose himself to the Pit-rage when he found out their plan. Dick was angry and horrified and found it hard to leave Damian’s side for days after he was told. 

“I can’t believe his own mother is advocating for this.” Tim felt sick to his stomach. 

“That bitch put a bounty on her own son’s head. Is it really so hard to believe?” Jason spat out bitterly. 

He might have felt grateful once towards the woman who gave him the best teachers and all the resources he would need to get his revenge. But that was before his head was cleared of her brainwashing and she started attacking his family. Now all he feels is a poisonous rage towards the Al Ghuls, and his hands itch to put a bullet through their heads. 

Dick felt the same bitterness and anger coursing through his veins. How much more did his baby have to suffer at the hands of his abusive grandfather and mother? 

“Me and Jason have been making plans to deal with the League, but we’ve been more focused on being there for Dami first.” 

Tim can understand that. _Broken green eyes haunt him_. “I’m in. What are your plans though?” 

“We’ll share the complete details with you later, but just know that we’re planning on destroying the League once and for all.” 

“We’re going to rain hell on them.” Jason piped up. 

Great. That’s just what Tim was already planning on doing. It wouldn’t be hard to modify his Fuck-with-Ra’s-life sabotage that he did a few years ago to make it more permanent. They were better off gone, never to be heard from again. 

“Are we going to tell the rest of the family?” He tentatively brought up. “This sounds more like it’s going to be all-hands on deck sort of thing.” 

Jason didn’t answer, looking at Dick who bit the inside of his cheek and slowly nodded. 

“Yeah. We’re going to need everybody. I’ll tell them.” 

Babs, Cass, Alfred, and...Bruce. He and Jay (even with the added help of Tim), they can’t do this alone. 

Batman will be a good and important asset to have. 

And as much as he hates B right now and doesn’t want to see his face, he loves Damian more so he will put up with the man’s presence. 

Because Dick is not losing his _son_ again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Good mom! Talia stories, but for the purposes of this fic, she is a bad parent. And look, the plot is finally moving forward and getting somewhere. 
> 
> And the self-harm references purely pertain to Jason (and it was in the past —he doesn’t do it anymore now). But it will come up again (spoiler plot alert?) 
> 
> .
> 
> So this story was supposed to be Damian-centric. You can clearly tell that plan has gone off the rails. Because in healing Dami of his trauma, the rest of the Bats are forced to confront their own issues and trauma. I get the added pleasure of writing their backstories and push them to start healing (actual healing btw, not that accept-all-guilt-and-blame bullshit they keep doing).


End file.
